


Eulogy

by Sokerchick



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Tag, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 17:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 23,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12537092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokerchick/pseuds/Sokerchick
Summary: A series of unrelated AU episode tags from NCIS Season 1.  Each Chapter is a stand alone story.  Most will have Gibbs whump or H/C of some sort.  Hope you enjoy!Note: Most of these were written immediately after I watched the titled episode so some details may not be clear if you haven't seen it recently.  Good reason to go back and watch season 1!





	1. Yankee White - 1x01

All of the pieces clicked into place. The target of the attack weren't the two officers who had been killed. "Cover the president." Special Agent Gibbs ordered Secret Service Agent Caitlin Todd. With that he turned his back on her expecting her to do her job as he strode purposefully toward the alcove where the weapons were kept.

All of his suspicions were confirmed when he saw the door of the weapons cabinet slightly ajar. Cursing under his breath he opened the door and grabbed a familiar 9mm hand gun and a clip. Shoving the clip home he broke into a jog as he came around the corner and out into the corridor. Aiming the weapon he demanded that the rogue reporter freeze.

"Get your hands in the air."

The reporter cum terrorist turned around slowly. "Sure someone yelled for a doctor." Then all hell broke loose. The terrorist's weapon was set to automatic as it tracked up from the floor to the ceiling leaving a trail of bullet holes in its wake.

Gibbs vision tunneled as he focused completely on his target. He was so focused that he didn't notice the searing pain in his side as he squeezed his finger twice on the trigger. He watched the man fall to the floor. As the suspect sank to the ground Gibbs put a bullet between his eyes for good measure.

Holding his firing position he glanced up from the body on the floor of the plane as Agent Todd returned. "The President is safe," she reported to him.

Relaxing his arms he went to take a step forward and found his vision suddenly swimming. He felt himself going down onto his left knee as intense pain engulfed his entire left side. His grip on the weapon in his right hand was slipping and he heard the clatter of the Glock hitting the ground as if from a distance.

His right hand reached into his jacket and came away bloodied. His left refused to respond to his commands. His body started to list sideways and he found himself staring up into the brown eyes of Agent Todd. For a woman who had called him a bastard not five minutes ago the liquid chocolate pools seemed to be brimming over with concern.

Slowly his ability to inhale air became forced and it felt as if he were trying to breathe underwater. More faces appeared above him as a man in a Navy Captain's uniform and two enlisted corpsman appeared over him.

"Agent put pressure on that wound in his side. Michaels the one in his hip. Keene press down on his shoulder."

As the third set of hands pressed down on the agonizing wounds all Gibbs knew was blackness.

It took twenty minutes before the plane was safely on the ground and another fifteen more to get Gibbs loaded on the medevac for the nearest hospital. All the while blood seemed to be pouring from the wounds that carved a line up his body. The doctor and two corpsmen handed the treatment of their patient over to the EMTs assigned to the helicopter and returned back to Air Force One to see to the health of the President. Meanwhile Agent Todd was left in the chopper to be an extra set of hands to the harried rescue team.

When he started coughing up blood they intubated him mid-flight to keep his airway clear.

\------------------------------------------------

Three days later his condition was listed as serious but stable and he still hadn't woken up. It was nearly one A.M. when he started to rouse fighting the tube in his throat the entire way. Gibbs' actions set off a series of alarms that sent nurses running and stirred Ducky from his fitful slumber in the chair beside his friend's bed.

"Jethro you need to calm down my boy." The soft voice garnered no response as the prone NCIS Agent continued to struggle.

Ducky leaned close to the bed and set his hand upon his friend's head and made direct eye contact. "Jethro. You need to listen to me. Stop struggling. You've been intubated and the pressure in your throat is the tube that's been placed there to keep your airway clear."

The on duty doctor arrived just as the former Marine finally got the message through his slowly firing synapses.

"I'm glad to see your awake. It's a great sign. I'm going to try and take that tube out. It looks like you're breathing fine on your own. I need you to exhale on my count. Nod if you understand."

The neurons were starting to warm up from his three day sleep and Gibbs nodded in response to the command.

The force of the tube being pulled from his throat sent Gibbs into a coughing fit which wracked his whole left side in pain. A cup of ice chips was held to his lips and he gratefully took them into his mouth savoring the moisture.

"Now look what you've done Jethro." Ducky was looking in dismay at the bandages that were spotted with blood.

The doctor ordered the nurse to get materials together for re-bandaging. She returned a few minutes later with the appropriate kits. The doctor administered something to Gibbs' IV. "This will keep the pain levels down while your bandages are being changed. Let me know if your pain levels increase at all. I'll be back after the bandages are clean."

He strode out of the room before Gibbs could protest the use of Morphine. His head started to swim and he got the barest glance of his bare chest as his gown was removed and the sheet turned down. The wounds near his shoulder and mid-chest stood out as long lines of neat stitches. The one near his shoulder, through his pectoral muscle was weeping a trail of blood. He gave up fighting the drug and allowed it to drag him into oblivion.

The following day his senior field agent was sitting in the chair near his bed when he awoke.

"Good to have you back Boss." Tony beamed at him from the over the bed's rails. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I've been shot DiNozzo. What the hell happened?" His voice came out in a weak croak and Gibbs scowled at the coarse sound. Apparently having the tube that had taken up residence in his esophagus for three days yanked out didn't do much for his vocal cords.

DiNozzo placed a cup of ice chips into his right hand and lifted the head of the bed enough to make it easy for him to swallow. Gibbs tried to hide the grimace of pain that was a result of the trail of fire shooting up from his left hip to the wound in his side as he was forced to bend near the site of the injuries.

"You got the bad guy boss but not before he got you. All of the shots were through-and-through. Abby dug the slugs out of the wall in Air Force One if you want them." Gibbs merely glared and continued to eat the ice chips slowly letting the cool wetness quench the desert that his throat had become over the last few days.

"Anyway Boss, the case got handed over to the FBI. The director didn't put up much of a fight said something about manpower and told us to move on. The Agent chick turned in her resignation apparently couldn't stand breaking rule #12"

That last bit of information startled him. "Give her a call. Get her in here DiNozzo."

"Sure Boss."

"Now DiNozzo."

Tony jumped, "Right Boss." He scooted out of the room to place the call.

The following day she was sitting in the hard plastic chair.

"I heard you quit Agent Todd." His voice was getting stronger. It didn't hurt to speak any longer and sitting semi-upright only caused a dull throb in his side now.

"Happy news gets around fast. Yes I resigned. It was the right thing to do."

"Yep. You pull that crap at NCIS and you won't have the chance to resign. I'll fire you."

"Is that a job offer?"

"It's the only one you'll get in Washington."

A knock sounded at the door. And the nurse entered with supplies to re-bandage Gibbs' wounds.

"Time for your wound check Mr. Gibbs. Ma'am if you could please step out of the room."

Caitlin Todd stood up.

"I'll see you in a few weeks Agent Todd. I expect you to have been sworn in and have your firearms evaluations completed. You're with NCIS now."

With that the nurse shooed the stunned woman from the room. Maybe things were looking up she mused.


	2. Hung out to Dry - 1x02

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs was pissed. And that was putting it lightly. This scum had sold out his fellow Marine. Killed him to keep his secret. And for someone who lived their life by the motto Semper Fi that type of transgression needed to be punished. Fortunately for the hapless Corporal, Gibbs was a federal agent first and a firm believer in the justice system. 

Pulling out his knife he stepped forward menacingly. “If I’m wrong Corporal, prove it!” Gibbs reached forward and cut the pull cord to Dafelmair’s main chute.

“What the hell are you doing? His main can’t open,” the jump master looked furiously at the NCIS agent but Gibbs just set his jaw and continued to stare Dafelmair down.

“He’s got a reserve,” Gibbs retorted. 

“Captain this is nuts! You ‘gonna put a stop to this Sir?” Finding out that his reserve parachute had been the one he’d soldered shut had obviously put Dafelmair on edge. He looked angrily at his commanding officer and then shot a look of pure hostility at Gibbs. When his CO made no move to intervene his forehead started to bead with sweat. 

Then Gibbs offered him the deal. It hurt like hell to offer this murderer, this lying piece of crap a way to reduce his sentence but he wanted a confession. As if Gibbs opinion of the man could get any lower Dafelmair practically leapt at the chance to get a reduced sentence for turning in his dealer. The other Marines in the plane weren’t feeling nearly so lenient. 

Brinkman leapt forward to throw the first punch.

Dafelmair was fighting like it was his last shot at freedom. Gibbs fought the urge to jump in on behalf of Brinkman. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back if he got a few licks in. Allowing the fighting to go on for almost 30 seconds he yelled at DiNozzo to grab Brinkman.

Brinkman wasn’t giving up easily though and as Gibbs stepped between the two men he got punched in the back of the head. The helmet took the impact but it set him off balance and he practically bumped chests with his suspect as he flung his arms out to steady himself. 

His right hand reached out to the rigging hanging from the walls of the plane and Dafelmair’s eyes alighted on the knife still clenched in the fist. Punching Gibbs in the jaw hard enough to make him see stars the Corporal lunged towards the weapon with both hands. Using a technique to lock out the older man’s elbow he applied his thumb to the pressure point on the inside of Gibbs’ wrist.

The knife practically leapt from Gibbs’ numb fingers and would have fallen to the ground if Dafelmair hadn’t caught it. 

Swinging with his left Gibbs solidly connected his fist with the side of the Marine’s head sending him stumbling with a ringing sensation in his ear. Falling to one knee Dafelmair released Gibbs hand from his hold.

He feigned dizziness then surged forward taking the NCIS Agent in a low bear hug type tackle. Reaching around with his right hand he jammed the knife into Gibbs left side as hard as he could. Hindered only slightly by all the gear he pushed Gibbs backward into DiNozzo and the stunned Brinkman. When they all hit the wall of the plane it drove the knife all the way into the hilt and Gibbs groaned.

The jump master lunged forward and grabbed the rogue Marine by the chute and pulled him clear across the body of the plane dumping him on his ass against the far wall. Glaring he ordered the two closest Marines to keep an eye on him and went to sort out the pile of limbs that was the pair of NCIS agents and one of his best men.

He helped a groaning Gibbs to his feet only to have the man go down on one knee planting a hand on the ground for support. That was when DiNozzo saw the glint of light off the handle of the knife jammed three inches into his superior’s lower back.

“Shit Boss.”

“Watch your mouth DiNozzo.”

The Agent in question only shook his head and looked up to the jump master. “You need to get this plane on the ground and have an ambulance waiting by.”

The jump master’s eyes widened as he finally saw the hilt of the knife in the back of the man at his feet. He turned on heel and picked up the radio phone that would allow him to relay the message to the cockpit.

Gibbs was breathing heavily by the time he was off the phone and sweat had started to bead his forehead and run into his eyes. Gibbs blinked to clear away the stinging droplets. 

“DiNozzo, we’re going to have to get some of this gear off.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea Boss?” The only response was a glare.

DiNozzo knelt down next to his Boss and removed the helmet he was sure was the only piece of equipment he would be able to get off the man without causing any more pain. The salt and pepper hair was plastered to Gibbs’ skull.

“Alright Boss, we’re going to have to get you upright to get the rest of this stuff off.” He looked at one of the stunned Marines. “Come here and give me a hand.” Acting as quickly as he could he got the Marine to help him out of his own jump equipment so he could move around better. DiNozzo then had the man hold onto Gibbs’ parachute to steady it as he and the jump master each got under an arm and slowly got Gibbs standing upright. A soft groan was the only sound the agent made as they painfully changed his position but his senior field agent saw the eyes clenched tightly and the lip he was biting to hold it in.

Commanding the young Marine to continue to hold the pack steady he put Gibb’s right hand in the rigging and told his Boss to hold on tightly then ducked out from under his arms. As Gibbs swayed to make up for the lack of support on that side the Marine held his parachute steady causing the straps to shift and the handle still sticking out to bump into the pack.

Gibbs did moan then and almost went down but DiNozzo stepped up quickly and grabbed him pulling his weight forward to rest on his chest as best he could around all of the equipment. 

“It’s okay Boss. I’ve got you. Now I want you to lean directly back into the Marine standing behind you. The jump master is going to keep you from swaying around too much.”

“Just get the damn equipment off DiNozzo.”

DiNozzo made eye contact with each of his helpers then slowly transferred his boss’ weight back to the other two. Then as quickly as he could he removed the back-up chute and tossed it aside. He then loosened every strap he could find. Finally all of the buckles hung loose.

“Alright Boss. Everything should be loose. You should just be able to lean forward and the nice Marine behind you will end up with your chute in his hands.”

The trio started to shift Gibbs’ weight back onto DiNozzo’s chest. The straps slowly unwound and freed the painfully trapped Agent. Then just as Tony thought they would get away without adding more damage one of the last straps got caught in the spring that allowed the knife to open. The strap tugged on the embedded knife and Gibbs almost bit through his lip.

“Hold up! Hold up!” Reaching around DiNozzo tried to free the knife from the strap as carefully as possible but from his position with most of Gibbs’ weight on his chest he could hear the catches in his Boss’ breath every time the knife was jostled.

Nearly 10 minutes after first getting stabbed Gibbs was finally free of all of the equipment that could be removed. 

“Boss. I’m going to have to put pressure on that wound.”

“The knife will keep the bleeding from getting too bad. Don’t touch it.” The words sounded rushed as if Gibbs was trying to get them out before the sounds of agony could escape behind them.

“At least let me get you sitting.”

Gibbs just grunted and Tony took the noise for agreement. If it hadn’t been then he could wait until later to be berated for it. He eased his boss into a sitting position.

The distinct pallor to the older man’s face led Tony to pipe in, “how much longer will it be until we get the to ground and can get him on that ambulance?”

“We’re about 10 minutes out.”

DiNozzo sighed. “We’re almost there Gibbs. Just hang on.”

“I’m not dying Tony.”

“Sorry Boss. Of course you aren’t”

Eight minutes later they touched down. Two minutes after that on the dot Gibbs was lying on his right side as they loaded him into the back of the waiting ambulance. DiNozzo made to get in and Gibbs just shook his head.

“No way DiNozzo. You have a prisoner who’s confessed to murder to take into custody. Make sure you read him his rights. This scumbag isn’t getting away on a technicality.” 

“But Boss you’re…”

“Not dying DiNozzo. Take him in and then call Ducky for me. I want your report by tomorrow.”

“But Boss it’s 2300 hours already.”

“Your point DiNozzo?”

“On it Boss.”

DiNozzo turned on heel and moved back towards the transport that still held their prisoner. It was going to be a long night.


	3. Seadog - 1x03

Jumping the fence to get into the basketball court had been a stunt to get the teen’s attention and Gibbs was sure that they wouldn’t have talked to him as openly as they had if he hadn’t done it. That didn’t mean, however, that there weren’t negative consequences for his actions. Ones that included a long lecture from Ducky about how he wasn’t getting any younger and should really take better care of himself.

It had started the day after they had closed the case. He had walked away from the miffed reporter and gone out to dinner with Michelle. Between the relief of closing the case, clearing the Commander and spending the night with his current red-headed fling he hadn’t even noticed that his knee had started to throb. It wasn’t until he had slowly gotten dressed the next day that he saw the joint had swollen to half again the size it normally was. When he stood on his right leg to get his left into his boxers and pain had shot up from the offending joint all the way to his groin he knew he was in trouble.

Steadfastly ignoring the throbbing sensation that walking elicited he hobbled towards the door throwing a longing look at the fall of red hair that covered the bare shoulders of his companion. Leroy Jethro Gibbs did not call in sick for something as paltry as a swollen knee not even when there was something far more enticing waiting for him.

He slowly made his way down the stairs and into his kitchen. He quickly set about his morning routine and brewed a fresh cup of strong coffee while he leaned against the counter and stared out his back window taking in the view of the dewy grass. This was probably his favorite time of day with the sun barely over the horizon the calm quiet of the morning and smell of good, strong java was almost as good a feeling as sandpaper beneath his hands.

Gibbs glanced at the finished pot and pivoted toward the counter to grab his favorite mug only to find himself hissing in pain again having temporarily forgotten his impairment. Clenching the counter in a white-knuckled grip he took a few deep breaths and counted down from ten in his head. The sharp pain abated leaving only a dull ache. He poured the first cup of coffee of the day and grabbed his mostly unused thermos from the cupboard. He usually liked to buy his second cup from the place a few blocks from the office so he could get a good brisk morning walk in but that seemed out of the question today. Sighing he started another batch of coffee to pour into the thermos.

The drive in had been more painful than he remembered. The pressure on his knee from stepping on the gas and the pivoting of his foot from one pedal to the other caused the pain to flare up. It was bad enough by the time he got to work that he sat in his car for at least five minutes before he made the walk to the front door. 

Masking the slight limp as much as he could he made his way into the office glad that he came in early enough that there was no one around to see as he made his sad way to his desk. His team found him ensconced in his chair as they slowly trickled in around 0730. They noticed as he sipped coffee from the lid of his thermos but neither thought it important enough to ask about. 

By 0930 he was ready for a refill and a trip to the head. DiNozzo had wandered down to Abby’s lab to get the rest of the hard copies of the forensics reports from the freshly closed case so he could wrap up his report and Cait had disappeared saying something about calling the Secret Service to see if they followed up on the phony Franklins. With the quiet in the bullpen and both his Agents MIA Gibbs slowly got up from where he was sitting.

The long hours in the chair had stiffened the offending joint which audibly creaked as he stood. Waiting a few heartbeats before he started forward Gibbs’ knee was protesting every step and didn’t seem to be loosening as he had hoped it would as the day wore on. It took him almost 45 minutes to make his way to the head and the mess hall to refill his thermos and by the time he got back both Tony and Cait were back at their desks arguing about something trivial across the aisle.

“Are your reports done?”

Tony jumped not having seen Gibbs standing next to his desk. “Almost Boss.”

“Mine’s on your desk,” Cait piped in.

“Overachiever.”

“I’m not an overachiever Tony. I just turn my reports in on time.”

“That’s exactly my point Cait,” Tony gestured widely as if to encompass everyone in the office. “Who actually turns their reports in on time?”

“Everyone but you DiNozzo. Get back to it. I want it on my desk by the end of the day.” Gibbs stopped the argument before it could degrade into something only worthy of five year olds. Some days he swore he was more of a kindergarten teacher than a federal agent. 

DiNozzo ducked his head and went back to work but as Gibbs stepped around the wall and into their four-person cube area Tony’s eyes followed his movements. Gibbs could almost feel his agent’s gaze taking in the stiff way his right leg swung as he walked towards his desk. Ignoring the feeling of eyes boring into his back he eased himself into his chair and set his freshly filled thermos on his desk.

“You okay Boss?”

“Fine DiNozzo.”

“You didn’t get any coffee from down the street today.” Gibbs silently damned himself for teaching the agent to be so observant, “and you haven’t been down to see Abby yet today. It’s almost 10:30.”

“I’m fine DiNozzo.” By this time though Cait has raised her eyes from her computer screen and seemed to be taking in his posture trying to determine if something was amiss. From where he was sitting DiNozzo could see Gibbs’ right leg stretched out under the desk and frowned.

“Something wrong with your leg Boss?”

Gibbs glared and pulled his leg back into its normal position wincing as he did so hoping his scowl would mask the frown tugging at his lips. Unfortunately, he had no such luck and saw the glimmer of worry surface in his senior agent’s eyes. “DiNozzo, if you’ve got enough time to be checking out my legs then you have enough time to get me that report by lunch. Snap to it.”

“But Boss that’s only an hour from now.”

“Then I suggest you get started because if it’s not on my desk by the time I send you out for lunch then I suspect you’ll have a lot more paperwork in the future.” DiNozzo groaned dramatically then dropped his eyes to the computer screen. He decided he’d talk to Ducky about it later.

By the time he was ready to pack up for the day Gibbs was so stiff that he was almost dreading getting up. Gibbs had stayed later than he normally would have on a Friday night in the hopes that his agents would have left by now but they had stubbornly stayed at their desks inconspicuously glancing up at him when they heard the scuff of his chair as he pushed it away from his desk.

As if summoned Ducky appeared in front of his desk as he was holstering his weapon to make ready for the trip home. In fact, Gibbs had a suspicion from the guilty looks that Tony and Cait were shooting each other that medical examiner /had/ been summoned. 

“Jethro. I haven’t seen you all day. Why don’t you come stop by autopsy for a bit.”

“Duck it’s nearly 18:00 and it’s a Friday night. I’ll catch up with you later this weekend.”

“Ah but Jethro I insist.” Ducky smiled openly at his long-time friend but Gibbs knew that under the affable grin was a backbone of steel. It might just be easier to acquiesce to his demands. It would at least get the two agents out of his hair.

“Go home you two. We’re off this weekend. Get some sleep.” His gruff concern for his team had them on their feet more than willing to leave their leader in the capable hands of the resident ME.

The quiet elevator ride down to autopsy seemed to last an eternity but in reality Gibbs found himself sitting on the edge of one of the cool metal tables less than three minutes after he left the bullpen.

“Let me see the knee Jethro. Come on now roll up your pant leg and let me see what damage you’ve done”

Gibbs looked away not meeting Ducky’s eyes. “Not sure that I can Duck. It’s pretty swollen.”

Ten minutes later and one painful examination revealed that the knee was indeed too swollen for him to get his pant leg up and over the joint. Palpating the aching joint hadn’t helped but the ice that Ducky had placed on it had started to numb the pain. The entire time he was examining the swelling Ducky felt the need to inform him that he had been reckless climbing over the fence not once, but twice. The argument that he had had to get back over the fence somehow hadn’t really worked and Ducky prescribed rest, elevation, ice and ibuprofen for the weekend. He also insisted on giving Gibbs a ride home saying that it wouldn’t be a problem to pick him up on the way into work on Monday and that his car would be perfectly safe in the yard over the weekend as long as they informed security.

Unwilling, for once, to argue Gibbs simply agreed and slipped into the passenger seat of Ducky’s car. The long, pain filled day had worn on the Agent and he dozed on the ride home his head resting against the back of his seat. 

It was dark when Ducky dropped him off at his home Gibbs meandered up to the front door much slower than he normally would have. Shutting the door looking out the window at the car backing out of the driveway Gibbs mused that while it could sometimes be trying it was nice every once in a while to have people who were looking out for you.


	4. The Immortals - 1x04

Gibbs took up a protective rear position behind his two agents and the Skipper of the ship. He pushed the Skipper forward to hurry him along and slammed the door shut just as the sun was setting. Not two seconds later the door exploded outward with enough concussive force to level the trio of NCIS agents and the Naval officer.

Cait and Tony stood up slowly from their positions coughing and brushing debris off of their clothing. 

“Are you okay?” Tony gave Cait a quick once-over to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

“Yeah, you?” the senior field agent nodded in response.

“Shit.” In tandem they turned towards the sound of the soft swear word to find the Skipper crouched over what seemed to be the unresponsive form of their boss.

Both trying to rush forward at the same time they got jammed up in the narrow bulkhead. Smiling sheepishly at each other DiNozzo deferred to Cait and allowed her to move through first. Now was not the time for childish behavior, they needed to asses Gibbs’ situation ASAP. 

Kneeling next to the Commander and the prone form of her superior Cait tried to determine the extent of the damage. The biggest issue seemed to be the large gash on his forehead where, according to the matching blood stain near her knee, the force of the blast had knocked Gibbs down and on his way he had hit his head on the edge of the knee-knocker. She could also see about a half a dozen tiny cuts in the back of his neck likely caused by splinters from the door. While Cait had been able to brush off the debris Gibbs had been significantly closer and the force of the blast had caused some of the slivers of wood to actually pierce the skin.

A low moan emanated from the man on the floor and he rolled up onto his side. Unfortunately for the ex-Marine the move forced all of the color out of his face and he scrambled away from the two worried looking agents and promptly deposited his lunch in a corner. Leaning on his knees and pressing his bloody forehead to the cool bulkhead he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will the dizziness to pass. Watching from a few feet DiNozzo to winced in sympathy at the way his boss braced himself and the obvious nausea the man was experiencing. 

The Commander got up and went to a nearby phone to call for medical support. The haz-mat team was already starting to descend on the area and after barking orders through the phone for his XO to carry out, he moved off to organize his crew. No matter how badly he felt about the obviously miserable NCIS agent dry heaving in the corner he had an entire ship to worry about and he doubted the man wanted an audience for his agony anyway.

Cait tried to lean forward and rub soothing circles in Gibbs convulsing back but he shrugged off her attempts. When the medical officer arrived the young Lieutenant knelt next Gibbs bent head. He still hadn’t managed to pry his eyes open by the time she gestured at DiNozzo to come help get Gibbs up off the ground. 

Mostly upright Tony could see that a goose egg the size of a golf ball was already forming around the sluggishly bleeding wound. Between that, the swaying, and the obvious nausea he suspected that his boss had a fairly severe concussion.

Making their way to the medical bay was painfully slow. Tony tried to warn Gibbs when they were approaching one of the hundreds of knee-knockers on the ship but they almost tripped over a few on the way despite his efforts.

Finally settling the weary man onto one of the exam beds Tony and Cait settled in to keep an eye on their boss during the exam.

“Agent Gibbs, I need you to open your eyes for me.”

He had been squeezing them shut and clenching the edge of the bed in order to keep the dizziness at bay. “No.”

“I’m sorry?”

“No,” he said a bit more forcefully. “I’ve had a concussion before.”

“Sir, I need you to open your eyes so I can check the pupil response and make sure you don’t have a more serious injury.”

He almost shook his head but thought better of it because just the thought of that sort of movement caused the bile to rise in the back of his throat. “No, I don’t need you shining some light in my eyes making it worse,” he croaked out.

So the medical officer moved forward to pry one of his eyelids open to check. In response Gibbs tried to bat the hand away but the movement overbalanced him in his already precarious position and he would have toppled completely if Tony hadn’t stepped forward and put a steadying hand on his opposite shoulder. He stood there while she checked Gibbs’ pupil response and then made another quick grab, this time of a nearby emesis basin. The light had made the older man’s photosensitive eyes throw him into another wave of nausea and dry-heaves.

The corpsman frowned at the reaction to the light but carefully announced that his pupils were equal and reactive which meant that the chance of a brain bleed or a more severe injury was slim. She was still recommending a helo home and a CAT scan to confirm the assessment. She made a quick call to the bridge then turned back to her guest.

“Agent Gibbs, it looks like with all of the commotion over the explosion it will be at least three hours before we can arrange a helicopter ride for you to Bethesda. In the mean time I’m going to take those splinters out of the back of your neck and clean up the wound on your forehead. I won’t be able to give you any pain medication because of the head injury. Will that be okay?”

He sighed. “Sure.”

“I’ll need you to lie down on your side.” Tony helped steady his boss as he carefully laid down.

Once on his side the corpsman efficiently pulled on rubber gloves and pulled a light close to the back of his neck. She handed him an ice pack to put on his head and he almost sighed in relief as the cool compress eased the persistent ache to a manageable level. He managed to drift off only to be woken by his senior field agent.

“What DiNozzo!?” He growled at the man.

“Sorry Boss but you fell asleep.”

“I know.”

“Yeah but with the head injury the Lieutenant told us to keep you awake.”

“Fine, I’m awake.”

Five minutes later it was Cait who was gently resting her hand on his shoulder. “Gibbs, you’ve got to stay awake.”

He merely glared at the agent leaning in front of him. The glare pulled at the skin around the sore wound which was now bandaged under a clean patch of gauze. If they kept waking him like this it was going to be a long wait for a transport home.


	5. The Curse - 1x05

The Curse

“Alright.” Abby announced as she finished sawing through the tank.

Gibbs and DiNozzo moved to opposite ends and pulled gloves over their hands to preserve any evidence left on the outside of the metal. “Okay on three. One, two, three.” Gibbs called out.

DiNozzo and Gibbs carefully lifted the top half of the tank. They stepped together to the side and started to lower the top down onto the ground for Abby to look over later. 

When the lid was merely a foot from the ground Tony swore. “Shit Boss, it’s slipping.”

“Lower it slowly DiNozzo.”

“Crap, Cait a little…” but he didn’t finish his sentence as he stumbled back away from the tank. His words were drowned out by a sharp clang as the metal hit the concrete. The sudden shifting in weight drove the already hunched over Gibbs to one knee on the floor and a split second later he yelled in pain.

Cait who had already been on her way over to help rushed to Gibbs side. She tried to wedge her fingers under the tiny gap near Gibbs’ hands but couldn’t manage to get her fingers under the lip of the metal so she turned to the woman in the white lab coat. “Abby, grab the crowbar!” 

Abby looked around with panic in her eyes until they finally fell on the lever. Snatching that and a small block of wood up off the ground she rushed over to where Tony and Cait were now kneeling on either side of their boss. Gibbs’ harsh breathing echoed around the garage as his chest heaved in time to his agony. 

Taking a knee next to Cait, Abby wedged the tip of the crowbar under the lip of the tank and pushed down lifting the heavy steel enough that Cait and Tony could wedge their fingers under and pull up on its weight. They managed to get it nearly five inches off of the ground and Gibbs immediately pulled his damaged digits from under the heavy lid. Abby quickly slid the block of wood beneath the edge so that Cait and Tony were able to set it down harmlessly.

Gibbs had rocked back onto his butt when he freed his hands and scooted away from the commotion backing up until he bumped into the leg of a table three feet away. Holding his hands close to his chest his eyes were squeezed tight and his breathing continued to come in harsh gasps. Ducky, who had been standing by to examine the mummified remains of the corpse inside the drop tank rushed over to his friend.

“Jethro.” The Marine seemed unresponsive to his name. “Jethro!” The second, louder attempt seemed to get his attention as pain filled eyes met the concerned ones of the medical examiner. 

“Jethro I need you to calm down. You need to slow down your breathing or you’ll hyperventilate.”

A nod in response. Then the seated man took in a deep, shaky breath and held it for a few seconds before letting it out as slowly as he could. His breathing was still rapid but much calmer than before and the best Ducky could hope for under the current circumstances. “Well done. Now I need to take a good look at your hands. Tony is going to go find a few ice packs and some gauze,” this last was said a bit louder and in the direction of the senior field agent who hurriedly turned on heel and headed for the nearest first aid kit.

Taking another deep breath Gibbs extended his damaged hands towards Ducky who had to hold in a shocked gasp of his own. The last segment of all eight of his fingers had turned a dark purple and was swollen. The pointer finger of his left hand had tiny bone fragments sticking through the skin and the adjacent finger was bleeding fairly heavily where the tank itself had broken the skin. The right hand wasn’t doing much better than the left. There, three of the fingers were bleeding and the nail on the smallest digit was hanging on by the merest sliver of cuticle.

Resting his hand on the injured man’s shoulder Dr. Mallard spoke in low tones meant to calm. “Tony will be back in a moment with the ice in the mean time we need to get you up and to a hospital. Crush wounds are nothing to be trifled with.”

A nod from the younger man led Ducky to signal Cait over to help out as each of them got a bit behind Gibbs and moved into position to lever him up to standing. They each placed a hand in his armpit and one just past his bent elbow and on the count of three lifted. Color drained from the senior agent’s face and he swayed on his feet but remained standing mostly on his own. Ducky guided him over towards the door that led to the garage.

“Cait. Please remain here and let Tony know we’re on our way to the car. If you’ll hand me the keys we’ll get a head start in that direction.” The young woman did just that as Gibbs and Ducky made their way to the car.

Five minutes later Gibbs was seated in the back with Ducky while Cait rode shotgun and Tony sat behind the wheel. Abby had been forced to stay behind due to space constraints in the car and had been none too happy about the situation. Last Ducky had seen she was heading toward her parking spot and based on the look of panic in her eyes would probably get to the hospital before them.

As they pulled out of NCIS headquarters Tony tried to drive carefully but he could hear every gasp from his boss as they went over each speed bump and bounced through every pothole. Taking a minute to glance in the rearview mirror he could see the sheen of sweat and the lines of pain marring the normally stoic features of his boss. Ducky was leaned over holding Gibbs’ wrists to try and act as a damper against the largest of the bumps. He was also pressing ice packs firmly into each of the Agent’s hands to try and reduce the painful swelling and minimize the amount of blood dripping from the wounds.

The drive to the hospital was made mostly in silence. It took nearly 30 minutes to get to Bethesda and Tony was sure that to Gibbs each minute felt like a day. Ignoring the signs that stated ‘Emergency Vehicles Only’ Tony pulled straight up to the doors of the ambulance bay. Ducky murmured softly to his friend and released his hands getting out of the car and rushing through the sliding doors to find a doctor.

Cait got out of the front seat and pulled the door open for Gibbs who was staring irately at the inside door handle. Placing her hand on the roof of the car to prevent her boss from hitting his head as he exited the vehicle Cait tried to help without hovering. After two aborted attempts to get standing without using his hands Cait finally relented and helped lever him to his feet despite his protests that his legs were working fine. A point that was almost belayed by the fact that his knees started to buckle as soon as he got upright. Fortunately, Tony had come around to the passenger side of the car and was there to catch him under the other arm and between the two agents they managed to keep him on his feet.

“Feeling a little dizzy Boss?”

A grunt was the only response to the concern his senior agent was showing. By the time they got him a few feet away from the car Ducky had had arrived with a wheelchair, a nurse and a doctor in tow. The nurse rolled up behind Gibbs and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to encourage him to sit.

“No.” Gibbs’ legendary stubbornness increased, seemingly exponentially, with his level of pain.

“Really Jethro. There’s no need to protest. This is the fastest way and Tony needs to move the car. It doesn’t look as if you’re going to go anywhere at this point without some assistance.”

Gibbs sucked in a deep breath and looked ready to protest but before he could get any words out of his mouth his eyes clamped shut and he seemed to sway on his feet. The bout with dizziness seemed to cure him of any lingering protest and he allowed the young nurse to guide him slowly into the seat of the wheelchair with the help of his two agents.

Tony left to move the car and the others accompanied their boss and friend into the ER. By the time Tony returned he found Ducky and Cait and Abby, who had arrived in the interim, in the ER waiting room. Refusing to sit Tony paced the hallway anxiously waiting to hear what the doctor would say about Gibbs’ hands.

Nearly an hour passed before the doctor emerged. “You’re with Mr. Gibbs?”

“Agent Gibbs.” The doctor looked taken aback by the tall Italian’s hostile response to the title. “He’s a federal agent not some stiff-necked pencil pusher”

“I apologize. Agent Gibbs. You’re…” he searched the file in front of him, “Donald Mallard?”

The Scotsman stood. “That would be me.”

“You’re listed as next of kin. I would like to have a few words with you concerning Agent Gibbs condition.” The doctor was careful with the courtesy he lent the injured agent. Ducky nodded. “If you could step over here please.” Tony was about to protest but Ducky shook his head. It would be faster than arguing with the physician over doctor-patient confidentiality and the gesture reassure the trio that he would let them know what the condition of their friend was.

When Ducky returned he asked Gibbs’ team to sit. Abby sat between the field agents desperately clutching their hands. “They’ve had to take Jethro up to surgery,” Cait couldn’t contain her gasp at the news and Tony’s eyes dropped to the floor. Abby’s eyes welled with tears and she clung tighter to her friends. “His hands were in rough shape and the last phalange of his left pointer finger was crushed beyond what could be repaired. We spoke briefly and he consented to its amputation.”

“Fuck.” The rough swear was the only sound the group heard. It was as if they were in a bubble all their own where you could have heard a pin drop. The news had stunned them all to silence. 

The spell was broken by an orderly walking by pushing a medical cart with a rickety wheel.

Ducky pressed on. “The rest of the fingers of his left hand will be fine. There were a few hairline fractures in the digits but they should heal within a few weeks. His right hand also sustained some severe bruising and minor fracturing. At the moment the concern is that there is too much pressure in the fingertips and that might lead to reduced blood flow or even cut off circulation. They’re trying to bring that down by draining some of the fluids now and if that works there shouldn’t be any other complications and all the fingers will heal. He may be short a few fingernails but they’ll grow back with time as well.” Ducky tried to put a positive spin on his blunt assessment of Gibbs’ condition.

“What about…” Tony stopped practically choking on his words. “Will the amputation affect his status as a field agent?”

The medical examiner’s face took on a grave countenance. “We’ll have to cross that bridge when we get to it. Hopefully because his left hand was damaged most severely it won’t affect his status but we’ll have to see if the pressure in his right hand drops. If it doesn’t they may well have to remove portions of those digits as well.”

There. The other shoe had dropped. At hearing the news that Gibbs might not return to being a field agent DiNozzo tried to rise from his seat but Abby had pulled both his hand and Cait’s into her chest and was currently folded over nearly double wracked with sobs. Her dark mascara was running freely down her face and it didn’t look as if the river of tears would abate.

Changing directions Tony rotated to face her by kneeling in front of her. He wrapped his other arm around her in a fierce hug. A beat later Cait joined in the impromptu hug. Ducky nodded to himself. They were leaning on each other for support. It was as it should be. He moved away from the group toward the OR viewing room. The doctor had consented to allow him to view the operation from above and he intended to watch over his friend as much as possible.

Two hours passed. The surgery had been very successful and it looked as if the pressure in Gibbs’ right hand was dropping. Ducky returned to the group to deliver the good news. When he reached the waiting area he found Tony at one end of a long bench with Abby’s sleeping head in his lap. He looked as if he had aged 10 years in the two hours Gibbs had been in surgery. 

Cait walked into the room carrying a holder with four large steaming beverages. Tony nudged Abby awake. She sat up and gratefully took one of the beverages in her hands. “Hot coco for you Abby. Tony, tall late. Ducky, here’s some earl grey for you,” she said handing the drinks out in turn. She took the last, large coffee with cream and sugar for herself. “What’s the word?”

Ducky faced the group. “Good. The surgery went well and the pressure in his right hand has come down so there should be no need for further action on that course. However, the doctor will continue to monitor the situation to make sure the pressure doesn’t begin to rise again. He’s resting comfortably in a private room and should actually be able to go home the in the afternoon tomorrow. The doctor said that we were welcome to sit with him.”

Abby nearly leapt out of her seat at the mention of being able to see Gibbs. Pulling Cait along she made a dash toward the private rooms forcing Ducky to yell after her. “Room 307!”

DiNozzo was much slower to rise and looked everywhere about the room but at Ducky himself.

“Is there a problem Anthony?”

Pain filled the agent’s eyes. “I screwed up Ducky. I let it slip and now Gibbs might not be able to come back to NCIS.”

“Don’t underestimate him. He’s come back from worse things than this my boy.”

“Ducky, they amputated part of his hand.” The dismay was evident in the guilt wracked words. 

Ducky sighed. He wasn’t the one that Tony needed to be talking to. The only man that could reassure him at this point was coming out of anesthesia and likely about to be woken up to the startling sight of a panicked Goth woman.

“Jethro should be coming around soon. You should speak with him.”

“He’s not going to want to see me. He lost part of his hand because of me.”

“Why don’t you let him be the judge of that. He might surprise you.” Ducky spoke softly as he carefully put his hand on the young agent’s shoulder guiding him in the direction of the private rooms.

When they reached the room they found Abby talking animatedly to a heavily blinking Gibbs. As Abby continued to regale him with a story about a party she had recently been to his head began to nod but all three occupants, including the quietly smiling Cait, looked up at the sound of the door opening. The girls stood. “I should get home. I have to feed my fish.” Abby stated in an awkwardly blatant lie. The group let it slide as she grabbed Cait’s hand and dragged her out of a room for the second time that day.

“Duck, DiNozzo.” Gibbs greeted the pair quietly and sat up straighter.

Tony looked at the man’s bandaged hands. His eyes flickering over the sterile white gauze covering the ends of each of the battered fingers and paused on the heavier bandaging on Gibbs’ left hand. All the wrapping made it look like there was nothing missing but Tony knew that was a lie. That there was a piece of Gibbs missing. That things weren’t going to be the same, that Gibbs would hate him for his mistake.

So wrapped up in his own turmoil he hardly noticed the soft drone of voices around him.

“DiNozzo.”

“Sorry Boss.” His head snapped up to meet his boss’s gaze automatically. DiNozzo heaved a breath. “I dropped the ball and you got hurt and I’m sorry.”

“DiNozzo. Take a breath you’re going to hyperventilate. It’s fine. I’m getting out of here tomorrow. The bandages will mostly come off in a week. Ducky talked to the doctor and there shouldn’t be any issues with sensation in the rest of my fingers. I should be able to requal no problem.”

“I know but. I’m the reason you’re here. I screwed up and I’m sorry.”

“You need to stop saying that. I just told you. I’ll be out of here in a day or so.”

DiNozzo wasn’t hearing anything that was being said. He just kept apologizing profusely for the damage to his boss’s hands.

Gibbs nodded at Ducky. “Really Jethro?” Gibbs merely nodded again at the medical examiner who sighed as if put upon then reached up and smacked the Italian man across the back of the head. His eyes suddenly focused on the prone man on the bed.

“Don’t apologize when there’s nothing to apologize for. It’s a sign of weakness,” and DiNozzo heard him that time. When Gibbs saw that his message had gotten through he leaned back and shut his eyes as if about to go to sleep. “Oh, and DiNozzo.”

“Yeah, Boss?”

“I expect you here at 3 p.m. sharp tomorrow. I need a ride home.”

“Yeah Boss.” Tony smiled. Things would be alright.


	6. High Seas - 1x06

Chief Petty Officer Reyes was worried. As a man known for his confidence that was a major issue. That nosy NCIS agent Gibbs and the NCIS agent afloat Burley had just stopped by asking questions about the pills he was giving his men. Luckily he had the caffeine pills in his right hand pocket. Unfortunately he had the ones he had spiked to keep his men going in the left. 

As soon as his shift was over he went back to his locker and cleared out his stash. Moving to the closest head he took a stall and dumped the remaining powder. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the seven pills he had already swapped out. He needed that NCIS agent off of his back and he knew just how to do it.

It didn’t take more than a few discrete inquiries to find out that while Gibbs rarely stayed, he could be spotted in the mess at all hours filling a mug with coffee. Heading to the mess closest to where the agents had set up shop Reyes opened three of the pills and dumped the powder into the bottom of one of the mugs. Grabbing two more mugs he filled them as well sticking cream and sugar packets into his pockets and headed to the NCIS office to play nice.

Reyes knocked and waited to hear a gruff “Enter” before he pushed open the door of the bulkhead. “Sir,” he addressed Gibbs directly, “I know I came off a bit harshly before and I apologize. You caught me off guard coming up to the flight deck during ops.” He reached out and handed Gibbs the mug laced with methamphetamines. 

Looking around the small room he didn’t see the pretty female agent or the young guy so he offered the second cup to Agent Burley. He took a sip from his own mug before digging into his pocket. “Cream or sugar Sir?”

“No thank you Chief.” Gibbs sipped slowly at his mug. He frowned and looked at it. “Where’d you get this chief?”

“The mess Sir.” Gibbs shook it off and continued to drink from the mug.

“So Chief, is there anything you’d like to add to your statement we took earlier.” 

“No Sir. I know my men and I know they wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the crews of those planes or the men on this boat. I don’t know what’s wrong with them but they’re the best of the best and I need you to find out who’s messing with them so we can fix this.” He laced as much sincerity into his voice as possible. 

“We’ll do our best Chief,” Agent Burley finally piped in. “If that’s all we’ll get back to it. 

Gibbs drained the cup and turned back to look at the file sitting on top of the cabinet. Ten minutes later he reached up and turned on the desk fan and removed the sport coat he had been wearing over his collared shirt. Burley looked up.

“You don’t look so hot boss.”

Gibbs just blinked. His forehead was beaded with sweat and dark rings were forming under each of his arms and along his back.

“Boss.”

“Huh?” Gibbs shook his head trying to clear his swimming vision.

Burley got to his feet. “I asked if you were okay.” The younger man rested his hand on Gibbs’ shoulder. The physical touch finally got a clear response from Gibbs. He looked at Stan who was startled when the normally clear blue eyes of his former boss looked unfocused. There was a small blue ring surrounding huge pupils.

“I…” Gibbs paused to suck in a breath. It was starting to feel like he was suffocating and his breathing was becoming rapid and labored. “Fuck.” He stared down at the empty mug in his hand and could just make out clumps of white sitting at the bottom of the mug. Unable to articulate around his breathing he shoved the cup into Burley’s hands.

“He spiked your coffee. Probably with methamphetamines based on your symptoms.” The agent pressed two fingers to Gibbs’ carotid artery. The speed of the heartbeat under his fingertips startled him.

Gibbs continued to sweat and his head bobbed as he tried to suck in air but he was breathing too fast to really take any in. Burley turned from the senior agent and reached for the phone. “I need a corpsman to the NCIS office ASAP” he barked into the receiver. “Agent Gibbs has been poisoned with methamphetamines by Chief Petty Officer Reyes. Get the MPs to pick him up and alert the other NCIS agents to report to sick bay.” He turned to his mentor. “Hang on Gibbs. We’ll get this sorted out.”

Burley could only watch in horror as Gibbs’ eyes rolled up into his head and he started to pass out. Luckily Stan was quick enough to catch him. His entire shirt was soaked through with sweat and his forehead was burning up. 

The corpsman arrived and dove into action. He was quickly followed by three other corpsman. They assessed him briefly and then scooped him up onto a stretcher. The lead corpsman barreled through the passageways of the ship screaming for people to make way and clear a path. The others followed in his wake lifting the unconscious NCIS agent over the bulkheads and pushing him down the corridors. 

They finally arrived at sick bay. Without hesitation a tube was inserted into Gibbs’ throat and a sickly black liquid was poured down it. A few seconds later it was hastily removed and Gibbs was rolled to one side and a bucket was placed under his head as he violently heaved up the charcoal and the liquid coffee that still remained in his stomach. With as much of the toxin out of Gibbs’ system as possible the corpsman was forced to treat the remaining symptoms. 

Ice packs were shoved into his armpits and behind his neck and knees in an effort to reduce the temperature of the prone man. He was burning up at nearly 104 degrees as the drugs still in his system caused his hypothalamus to swing wildly out of whack increasing his core body temperature. A cooled saline IV was started with drugs to counteract other symptoms including a proactive anti-convulsion medication.

A few minutes after the rush a second wave of people entered the sick bay. This time everyone was under their own steam. Cait and Tony stared helplessly at their boss. His shirt had been removed in the process and his skin was starting to redden under the intense cold of the ice packs. His cheeks were flushed with the heat of his fever and there was a smear of sticky charcoal marring the left one.

“Is he okay?” Cait’s voice was full of distress.

“I’m going to need you guys to step out. I need room to work.”

The two visiting agents began to protest immediately and in unison.

“No. OUT. I need to tend to my patient.”

The agents silently slunk out into the corridor. Burly stayed quietly unnoticed in the corner and watched as the corpsman rolled his mentor onto his side to move ice packs about and put more under the now shivering man. The corpsman and his assistants worked around Gibbs. Much of the time he was shielded from Burly’s protective view but the man had been trained well. He could see when the frenetic pace slowed. He knew that for the time being his boss, because that was the only way he could think of the silver haired man, was out of trouble. 

He moved quietly into the corridor. The two agents already there looked startled at his sudden appearance. “He’ll be fine. Come on.”

They stubbornly held their ground against the intruder. 

“Look. I was just in there with him. His vitals are stable and his temperature has come down. When he wakes up he’s going to be damn pissed if his crime scene isn’t processed and there’s not a confession from Reyes on his desk.”

Tony and Cait exchanged glances. They knew the older man was right but were loathe to concede. In silent agreement Cait turned to follow Burley to the NCIS office that was now their crime scene and Tony moved towards the brig. 

Four hours later they were back outside the medical bay. The fingerprints collected off the coffee mug matched Reyes’ and the mug itself was carefully packaged with a chain of evidence seal and ready to go to the lab in D.C. to be analyzed. Hopefully the results would show that the residue was methamphetamines which had been the forensic evidence they needed to slam the case shut on Reyes.

The group quietly filed in to the medical bay that Gibbs was currently sharing with one other of Reyes’ victims. The rest of his deck crew had been taken off rotation until their drug tests came up clean and the urinalysis seaman had been arrested when Tony discovered from his interview with Reyes that he had been bribing him to swap the labs in exchange for money. 

Gibbs groggily opened his eyes and took in the sober faces before him. He slowly propped himself up on the pillows so he could look more directly into their eyes. He had been cleaned up but divested of all his own clothes. It was strange for Tony to see his boss in such a vulnerable position, propped up in bed draped in a medical gown but he reported all the same.

“Then Reyes flipped on the pee guy and we’ve got them both solidly. We just need Abby to work her magic to confirm some of the forensics.”

He nodded slowly to Tony’s conclusion of the events that had happened since he had been tossed onto the gurney just a few hours before.

“So boss how’re you feeling?”

The only response was a glare.

“So peachy-keen?” Piped the Italian.

Gibbs tilted his head back and listened as his senior field agent continued to prattle on. The sound was surprisingly comforting and he drifted off sitting up. As his eyes slid shut he failed to see the trio of grins gleaming back at him.


	7. Sub Rosa - 1x07

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo of the NCIS major case team looked around the torpedo bay of the Philadelphia. Tony had McGee, the agent stationed at Norfolk, clicking photos to take for evidence but it was fairly clear what had happened.

Gibbs and the COB had dragged the body of Drews murder, Shawn Travis, down the hallways of the Philadelphia. The cyanide canister the man had swallowed had already been triggered by the time Gibbs figured out that suicide was a backup plan and not an exit strategy. In the time it had taken to get all the way to the torpedo bay from the freezer the rough handling of the body had taken its toll.

Special Agent Gibbs had ordered everyone out of the torpedo bay with the exception of Petty Officer Thompson who he barked commands at. He had made sure that the watertight, and airtight, door of the bay had been sealed. With the air conditioner off no air from the room was going anywhere else on the sub. 

The Captain cleared the trio to fire Travis’ body from one of the boat’s tubes which was done successfully, but not before some of the gas escaped from the former Petty Officer’s stomach through his nose and mouth. There was a Navy search and rescue crew in helicopters looking for the body of the man in question. Unfortunately, they weren’t sure that they would find it. The body had been launched from submarine cruising depth and taking the currents in to account they were doing the best they could but something as small as a single body could be swept very far very fast in a strong current.

Tony sighed as he gazed around fogging up the protective equipment he was wearing. The entire team was wearing breathing devices despite the fact that the hazmat team had cleared the room of any remaining gases. _We shouldn’t even be here._ They were the closest investigative team to the scene though, and he wasn’t about to let this crime scene sit or anyone screw this up. He would have preferred Ducky to handle it but the ME was nearly three hours away at the Navy Yard. Nonetheless he was on his way and would take possession of the bodies as soon as they were back at Norfolk’s morgue.

He walked around the corner of the torpedo and his eyes fell upon the crime scene. He nearly bolted at the sight and shut his eyes against the image he was sure would haunt him for a while yet. Petty Officer Thompson was curled up in a corner his hands clutched around his own throat. The COB leaned solemnly against the racks of torpedoes near Tony’s feet. 

What made him brace himself, what made him want to throw up like he hadn’t done since he was a probie was the sight of Gibbs body against the bulkhead of the ship propped up by the wall just under the torpedo tube.

Gibbs eyes stared sightlessly at the wall and his skin had taken on an almost pink hue. The unfamiliar medical examiner had assured Tony that that was normal in cases of acute cyanide poisoning and that it was caused by the chemical blocking the ability of the body to absorb oxygen. The red, almost pink tone was the life-saving oxygen rich blood that could have saved Gibbs life if his body had only been able to use the oxygen stored in the blood. Gibbs had essentially suffocated to death.

Tony knelt by the body of the man he thought of as his mentor, a man in whom he had placed his utmost trust. He reached out a gloved hand and carefully closed the lifeless blue eyes.


	8. Minimum Security - 1x08

Gibbs was glaring at Tony in no uncertain terms. At least his senior field agent had managed to put some pants on.

When Gibbs had been woken from a dead sleep by the yelling emanating from Dinozzo’s room he had immediately grabbed his gun and burst into the room. Initial visions of an irate Paula Cassidy stabbing the man dancing in his head. He had initially trained his weapon on the source of the yelling, identified the direction his agent was pointing his weapon and redirected his line of fire.

The iguana wasn’t even that big.

In a huff he had returned to his room to get ready for the day. When, twenty minutes later, he heard the whisper yell of his senior field agent talking to Cait he had gone back to Dinozzo’s room to investigate.

“Get it!” stress in the male voice could be distinctly heard. As well as a hint of a whine that reminded him of siblings arguing with one another.

“Your room your problem Tony. You were the one who fought for this room.”

“No I wanted the one with the bathroom.”

“Doesn’t matter. Not my problem.”

Gibbs stood in the doorway and watched the two argue for a moment then eyed the iguana who was still happily perched on the pillow on Dinozzo’s bed. “Let’s get a move on people we don’t have all day.”

Startled Dinozzo turned to face Gibbs. “Boss, the thing is still here. I tried to scare it out the door but it didn’t move.”

Cait grinned. “I don’t think standing five feet away and yelling ‘bad iguana’ at it counts as trying to scare it. I think I could see it laughing at you.”

Exasperated with the delay Gibbs moved past the two field agents and wrapped his hand under its belly. The stupid thing bit him.

So now he was at medical on base getting the surprisingly deep bite mark cleaned and apparently needed a shot for some tropical disease or other. Dinozzo was on a coffee run because in the midst of evicting the unwanted visitor to the front yard of the house Gibbs hadn’t had time to make a pot. 

Staring down at the bandage on the web of his left hand he vowed that Dinozzo would be making coffee runs for a good long time.


	9. Marine Down - 1x09

Cait Todd quietly stood on the far side of the ER and looked at lines dotting her boss’s bare back. The newest ones were denoted with neat black lines of stitches that reached from the top of his right shoulder down along his shoulder blade. More crossed the top of his deltoid wrapping around to the front of his bicep and a third, smaller line of just seven stitches ran along the back of his arm on his triceps.

These newly placed rows of thread were outlined by a red puffiness that indicated irritation of the wounds from the long ride home and the eight hour flight that he had waited through before he would let himself be seen, stateside, by a doctor. He had gotten those stitches, all 43 of them protecting her and she was having trouble wrapping her head around it.

Her gruff, no-nonsense boss had seen the grenade and without hesitation thrown himself over her to protect her from the blast. Then, while she had been stunned by the blood on her hands he had nonchalantly gone back into the fray merely calling over his shoulder that it wasn’t, in fact, her blood. She knew that he had merely done what he was trained to do but seeing it in action like that had changed her perspective. Sometimes she forgot in her own independence that she fell inside his sphere of protection, lumped in with the victims and children.

Looking once again she realized that this couldn’t have been the first time he sacrificed part of himself for another person. While the newest scars were the easiest to see as she approached his bed she could pick out a network of faded scars that dotted his back. 

The round one near his left hip looked suspiciously like a bullet entry wound while the larger one along his spine had telltale dots running alongside it indicating sutures being removed. There were a few very faded ones she could only see when she was nearly close enough to touch him and she suspected that they might be from his youth.

There were more, small ones and large ones. She came around to face him and saw the ones that dotted his chest and stomach. 

“Ducky told me to give this to you,” she extended her hand with a worn flannel shirt in her grasp. “He went looking for your doctor and mentioned something about discharge papers.”

Gibbs looked relieved at the mention of escaping the sterile hospital environment. He took the shirt with a quiet nod of his head.

“Do you need…” but the help she was about to offer wasn’t necessary as he quickly and efficiently slid the button down shirt over his injured arm first followed by his good, left one. He obviously had practice at this.

He managed the buttons in the middle of the shirt just fine but as he extended his arm to get the lower ones he winced and relaxed the elbow back to a 90 degree. Cait moved forward to help but was pinned to a standstill by the steel gaze of his blue eyes. That glare could stop a charging elephant at 100 yards she decided quietly to herself. Too bad there wasn’t an elephant in the room to deflect his attentions.

Fortunately, just as Cait was trying to come up with something to say to the man who had recently saved her life something even better than an elephant bounded into the curtained off area. That gaze might be able to stop a lot of things but apparently Abigail Schuito, riding high on worry and what was probably her fifth Caf-Pow of the day, was not one of them. Abby unceremoniously handed Cait the large, brightly colored, Styrofoam container and despite his grunts of protest moved straight into Gibbs’ personal space and buttoned the bottom two and top two buttons that he couldn’t reach.

“Oh my gosh Gibbs I was so worried about you! Ducky called and said that he was going to take you home but then he’d have to take you to his place because he couldn’t leave his mom alone and the corgis would just bark and bark and bark. You know how they get. And then you wouldn’t be able to sleep. So I told him that I would just take you back to your place and then you can get some decent rest and you know studies have shown that right after an injury it’s really best if you get a lot of sleep. It helps the healing process. “ 

In the moment when she paused to take a breath Gibbs murmured a soft “Thanks Abs.” But it was half-hearted. His eyes were already drooping and he looked like he could fall asleep on his feet. Probably a combination of the long flight , the few hours here in the hospital and the painkillers they had injected him with right after they had finished suturing him back together. 

Ducky returned just then and Gibbs easily slung his left arm around the older man’s shoulders as he found his balance after standing up from the gurney. He let the supporting arm drop from his friend’s shoulder and cradle the forearm of his damaged shoulder trying to take as much pressure off the newly placed stitches as possible. Ducky carefully put a sling over his head and adjusted it until Gibbs sighed with relief.

“Alright then Jethro let’s get you home.”

And the three trundled off at a slow enough pace for Gibbs to keep up on his own two feet. His pride wouldn’t allow anything else and if Ducky and Abby had both discreetly placed arms at the small of his back who was he to say anything about it?

Cait realized in that moment, that while she might still be in his circle of protection she had a long way to go before she was truly allowed inside the walls Gibbs had erected to protect himself.


	10. Left For Dead - 1x10

The room lit up around Cait as she gaped in open horror at the mistake she had made. The lobby of BFF became an inferno less than three seconds after Suzanne looked her in the eye and apologized. Cait stood frozen in the certainty that this mistake was the last one she would ever make.

Just as that split second realization hit she felt herself falling sideways to the right checked bodily on the left shoulder as Gibbs stepped up between his two agents. Shoving Cait gracelessly to the ground with a move any professional hockey player could admire he grabbed the sleeve of Tony’s jacket and swung him around in a tight circle and let go at just the right moment to send the senior field agent sprawling after his coworker. The end result of which was the two agents lying in a pile on the floor directly behind a low sofa. The couch, originally meant for quiet conversation or contemplative waiting, was now being used as a bomb shelter by the confused duo.

Unfortunately for Gibbs Newton and his laws of motion hadn’t miraculously left the building. The force that sent Tony sprawling behind the sofa caused Gibbs to reel toward the middle of the room. The move had taken approximately three seconds. Three seconds since the seemingly sincere apology by the confused bomb maker had launched him into action.

The world exploded around him.

The concussion alone was enough to send the unfortunate agent sprawling backward. In fact, it was strong enough to knock him out before he ever hit anything. Unconsciousness was a good thing considering the fact Gibbs was launched backward at such an alarming speed he struck the post supporting two of the giant panes of glass making up the entryway to the facility. It was a good thing because his back struck the post and if he’d been conscious enough to hear it the audible crack would have unnerved even the toughest Marine. And if that hadn’t done the job the back of his skull being used as a battering ram to smash the window into hundreds of pieces surely would have.

Despite the best efforts of their boss the sofa was meager comfort or protection, although it managed to deflect much of the initial concussive force. The fact that it was knocked backwards on top of the agents wasn’t particularly helpful. Nor could the wood and fabric protect the exposed bits of skin from the searing heat of the blast. The backs of Tony and Cait’s neck and hands were burned as they made an effort to protect their heads. There was one thing you could say about Suzanne, she was a damn fine bomb maker. The tiny, palm sized bomb wreaked havoc.

Tony slowly pushed himself up off of Cait lifting the surprisingly heavy piece of furniture off of their backs with his shoulders. Looking down he could see the blistering forming on Cait’s hands where they still protected her head. What was once creamy, carefully tended skin was now oozy and sore looking with the edges of the burns taking on a disturbingly charred look. As he reached down to touch her back to signal the all clear he noticed his looked much the same and was surprised to find he couldn’t feel the obvious damage.

Even scarier came seconds later. He knew he said her name. He could feel the vibrations tickle his throat in a way he didn’t notice when he had auditory clues to let him know he was talking. If he couldn’t hear it chances were she couldn’t either. Tony carefully laid one hand between her shoulder blades determined to ignore the sight and smell of burnt human flesh.

Cait jumped.

It wasn’t a conscious decision she made. She was startled. She expected to be dead. She hoped heaven didn’t smell like this though. Maybe she was in hell. 

These thoughts raced around her mind as she rolled over and looked up at the man who had put his hand on her back. Tony. Cute, goofy, absurd Tony. She sighed in relief, he didn’t look as cute now with soot smeared across his cheek but it was a surprisingly reassuring sight to see, him grinning down at her with one of those 100 Watt smiles.

They stared at each other reveling in the fact that they were alive. Then, as if in the same moment, they realized why they were alive. Gibbs.

Cait extended her hand for Tony to help her up. As she did she glanced toward the elevator bank where she had last seen Suzanne and Stephan. Nothing remained of where they had been standing but there was a crater in the floor nearly five feet in diameter and two feet deep at the epicenter. She shuddered as the realization the biggest piece of her they would probably find of either person would be a finger, if they were lucky.

Shaking away the thought she scanned the room and located the crumpled form of her boss but the sight wouldn’t register. Gibbs always stood tall. Even when he wasn’t physically the tallest man in the room she had seen him make a six foot five Marine seem to shrink into a corner. He wasn’t this broken thing lying motionless with a pool of blood slowly expanding around his head. He wasn’t this puppet with its strings cut.

Except he was. Tony had already covered half the distance to the prone man by the time she had even gotten moving. Then they were kneeling side by side trying to assess the damage. Concussion, judging by the number of pieces glass on the ground and the amount of rapidly pooling blood, check. Broken arm, check. She eyed the severely broken right arm where the sleeve of Gibbs’ jacket was tented over the bone protruding from his forearm. Possible skull fracture, check. It looked as if Gibbs was weeping tears of blood.

Once again Tony jumped into action. He didn’t want to move his boss’s head or neck as there was an obvious skull injury so he did what he could. Flipping open the knife Gibbs had given him on his first day at NCIS along with some sage words about rules that Tony had been too overwhelmed to even hear, the senior field agent proceeded to cut open the right sleeve of the sports jacket Gibbs was wearing. At least, Tony smiled to himself, he didn’t have to worry about ruining expensive clothing the blazer Gibbs was wearing was Sears finest.

Exposing the wound did nothing to settle his seething stomach but it made him feel useful. This was something he could do. Using the shredded sleeve as a tourniquet he proceeded to attempt to stem the flow of blood from the wound. 

If either agent had been able to hear they would have known that help was on its way. The sirens of an army of fire trucks and an ambulance were wailing towards them at a breakneck pace. So it was a complete surprise to Cait to see the men in yellow reflective jackets striding through the front doors of the bomb making facility.

By this time men and women had started evacuating using alternate routes out of the building. The firemen directing them away from the site of the blast. A burly fireman knelt down near Cait, Tony and their prone boss. Cait could see his lips moving but couldn’t understand what the man was saying. Where was Abbey when you needed her? She could read lips.

Not knowing that she was nearly shouting at the top of her lungs at the man trying to help Cait tried to explain the situation. “There was a bomb. They make them here. We were caught up in the explosion. I don’t think there was anyone else in the lobby except maybe the guard behind the desk over there.” With that she gestured to the charred façade of the security desk.

“You have to help our Boss. He has a broken arm and we think a skull fracture.” She watched the fireman respond but still no sounds penetrated the wall of silence that muffled the world around her. “I can’t hear you.” She tugged on Tony’s jacket sleeve. “He can’t hear you either.”

“You have to help our boss.” She reiterated the plea silently begging the man to find help quickly. Gibbs did not look like he was doing well. As if in answer to her inaudible begging the big fireman turned to his radio. She could see his gestures as he relayed the information to someone who could hopefully help Gibbs.

Thirty seconds later a pair of paramedics knelt next to the prone man to make an initial assessment of the situation. A single glance and a shared look of worry between the pair of men confirmed Cait’s fears. Gibbs was in serious trouble. Before even continuing the assessment one of the men reached into his bag and pulled out a pair of industrial scissors and cut up the left sleeve of Gibbs’ jacket and what remained of the right allowing the tattered fabric to fall off the agent. 

Quickly and efficiently he inserted an IV into the crook of Gibbs’ left arm then thrust the bag of clear liquid into Cait’s hands. “Keep it elevated.” He said it slowly and hefted the bag in her direction to make sure the woman understood despite the, hopefully, temporary deafness She immediately raised the bag over her head and the paramedic spared a quick smile for her. “You only have to keep it elevated above him. Just rest it on your shoulder.” He pushed the bag gently down to reinforce the words she couldn’t hear. Returning the smile sheepishly she set the liquid container on her shoulder and continued to watch intently as the paramedics worked.

The taller blonde one started an assessment reeling off Gibbs’ vital statistics including his heart rate and breathing as well as his blood pressure which was bordering on dangerously low. Without the pressure it needed to be pumped around the body Gibbs could end up with organ failure due to lack of oxygen even if his lungs were working perfectly.

The paramedic started the physical assessment while Cait and Tony watched his lips with rapt attention trying to discern everything they could about their bosses’ condition. “Pupils are equal and reactive but there’s softness at the back of the skull indicating fracture. The sclera of the eyes is filled with blood confirming. Second degree burns to exposed skin including face, neck and hands. No facial fractures.” He continued to run his hands down the length of Gibbs body. Lifting Gibbs shirt to look at his abdomen then carrying on towards his legs. 

“Compound fracture to the right ulna, no breaks to the left arm. Severe abdominal bruising indicative of internal bleeding. Legs seem okay. No breaks or burns. Okay Allen we need to get him on a backboard and assess his spine.” Up until this point they hadn’t moved him at all. The paramedic named Allen reached behind himself and pulled out a white cervical spine collar that gleamed surreally in the reflections of the blue and red lights of the fire trucks and ambulances. 

Carefully the experienced paramedic slipped the stiff plastic collar under the head of the agent laying on the ground. He velcroed it shut firmly before moving away to grab the backboard sitting on the gurney a few feet away where rubble prevented them from rolling the bed right up to their patient.

Handing the back board to his partner the two made eye contact and nodded. “On three. One, two, three.” As one four hands stabilized the prone man and they rolled him up onto his left side. Making sure to stabilize his neck and prevent as much shifting of the man’s back as much as possible they slid the board behind his back. Gently the paramedics rolled Gibbs back onto his back using the support of the board to keep his spine aligned. 

Gibbs hand twitched as Allen strapped his head down.

“Sir, Sir can you hear me?” Tony and Cait most certainly couldn’t but they saw the man lean in over their boss and his lips move with intent. The two agents unconsciously leaned forward as well. 

“Tony?” The voice was louder than it should have been. Gibbs couldn’t hear himself, let alone the paramedic. He blinked to clear the blood and sweat from his eyes. The blue pupils normally a striking hue were marred by the red tinge but they clearly sought out a familiar face and found the people he was looking for. “Tony, Cait. You okay?”

The concern in his eyes transmitted the meaning of his words that sound waves and air particles couldn’t . They both nodded. Gibbs hand twitched again and Dinozzo leaned forward to lay a hand on the leg nearest to him intending to reassure the man. Gibbs never liked to be confined in the best circumstances and this situation was about as far from the best as it was possible to get. Unfortunately the contact proved to be anything but reassuring.

“Tony,” the paramedics heard the strain in his voice and the slight waver at the end of his agent’s name. “Tony is your hand on my leg.” Gibbs started to fidget more. 

Allen leaned in and placed a hand in the middle of his chest and leaned over so that he made eye contact with the man strapped in tightly to the backboard. “Sir. I need you to let me know if you can feel this.” Gibbs attempted a nod only to be aborted by the c-spine collar and managed to choke out an affirmative.

“Okay. I’m going to move my hand down your body and I want you to let me know if you start to have trouble feeling it.” He spoke slowly trying to make sure that the man had enough time to read his lips and understand what was going on. Gibbs okayed it and then closed his eyes to concentrate on the feeling of the hand running from his chest down the length of his body.

Just below his belly button the sensation stopped. “I can’t, did you lift your hand up?” He cleared his throat. “I can’t feel it.” Gibbs opened his eyes slowly and despite the spinning of his surroundings he saw the worried faces of the paramedics.

The world tilted and twirled again as the backboard he was on was lifted and moved to the waiting gurney and onto the ambulance. For the second time that day Gibbs gratefully succumbed to the waiting darkness. Tony and Cait were directed to a different ambulance. They hadn’t understood what had happened or the significance but they comprehended the worry and the increased urgency that had followed the assessment. 

Four hours later their hearing returned and the news was bad enough to send Tony wishing for permanent hearing loss as if that would block out what the doctors were telling them. The massive internal bleeding had been fixed. Pins and plates held both his arm and skull in place and those wounds were expected to heal.

There weren’t enough pins or plates in the world that could fix his spine though. Two vertebrae had shattered on impact severing his spinal cord. Gibbs was paralyzed from the waist down.

Tony turned resolutely to his waiting room chair and sat. When Gibbs woke from surgery Tony would be there for him as his world crashed down.


	11. Eye Spy - 1x11

“You need a hand?”

The Lieutenant looked up in surprise then turned on heel and sprinted for her car. The three NCIS agents barreled down the hill after her intent on not letting their murderer get away. Egan reached for the door handle and realized she wasn’t going to make it. Gibbs and Todd were less than 20 yards away with DiNozzo trailing in their wake. 

Dropping the precious prototype she was going to use to frame her husband’s lover she pushed the button on the fob in her hand popping the trunk as she spun around to the rear of her car. Reaching in she blindly grabbed the first club that came to hand and swung it in a huge arc towards the man rushing her.

“Son of a bitch.” Gibbs yelled as he stumbled backwards clutching his right arm to his chest. “Cait, watch out. She’s armed.” He stuck out his left to prevent her from stepping towards the irate woman. 

Tony took in the scene as he ran up alongside Gibbs and Cait and pulled his weapon in tandem with his female partner. “Now we can add assaulting a Federal Officer to the rap sheet. Lieutenant, put the weapon down before this gets any worse.”

“That bitch stole my husband from me. He was a good man until he started putting his dick where it didn’t belong.” With a grunt she hurled the golf club towards the agents.

Gibbs ducked instinctively and shielded the right side of his body where his arm continued to throb, luckily the club sailed over his head. DiNozzo and Todd took the opportunity to step up and secure the suspect, cuffing her hands behind her back where she couldn’t do any more damage.

The lead agent surveyed the scene. His team had the woman well under control. Tony was leading the woman back towards the hill where the agents had emerged from the woods. He would take the suspect in. Cait reached down and picked up the discarded keys from the ground and extended them towards her boss. Gibbs didn’t respond merely turned on heel and threw orders over his shoulder. “Get it back to the garage at NCIS Cait. Make sure you bring the prototype too.”

Agent Todd sighed in frustration as she watched the retreating form of her boss. Sometimes he really did earn that second ‘B’ in his name. She picked up the prototype in gloved hands, having pulled them from the inside pocket of her jacket. “Rule number two always wear gloves at a crime scene.”

She lifted her gaze to glare at her boss again just as she saw him reach out his arm towards a tree to steady himself on the way up the hill. She could imagine the hiss as the limb quickly retreated into the protection of his chest. She saw him draw himself up to his full height and stride up the remainder of the hill and wondered what that cost him.

In the car DiNozzo pursed his lips as he got behind the driver’s wheel. The boss had refused the keys, instead gingerly seating himself in the passenger’s chair and slowly clicking his seatbelt into place. “So boss, you experience any déjà vu when Babe Ruth back there came at you with the golf club?” The offhanded joke only earned him a glare and the rest of the drive was made in silence but DiNozzo noticed how every bump in the road caused Gibbs’ shoulders to tense and every pothole caused a glare.

Back at NCIS headquarters Gibbs gruffly directed his team “DiNozzo, take the suspect upstairs and get her processesed. Cait, have Abby sign for the car. It’s late she can take a look at in the morning. Let the director know we found the Navy’s toy and It’ll be released back to them after it’s no longer a piece of evidence in an ongoing investigation.”

“They’re not going to like that Gibbs.” The female agent retorted.

“Do I look like I care?” With that he once more turned away from her. Scanning his eye to enter the elevator Cait noticed that it went down instead of up.

The click-hiss of the doors of autopsy were somehow always comforting to Gibbs, not that he’d ever tell anyone that. Even more relaxing was the soft lilt to his friend’s voice. “What brings you down here so late Jethro? I was just on my way out. Did you catch your man?”

“We caught our woman Duck.”

“Ahh, and no bodies were found?”

“Nope.”

“Then what brings you to my humble workplace?”

“I need some ice.”

Ducky finally swung his eyes up to meet those of his longtime friend and read pain in the way the corners of them crinkled just so. Sighing he removed the scarf and jacket he had just donned and turned to where he kept his emergency first aid kit. Rummaging through the small white box he located the instant ice pack and activated it with a quiet pop. 

While his back had been turned Gibbs had struggled out of the lightweight NCIS windbreaker and had exposed his right arm in the process.

“Dear me Jethro how you haven’t managed to learn to duck yet is beyond me.” In one hand the ME shook the ice pack hoping to activate the chemicals inside more quickly. In the other he gently raised Gibbs arm to eye level.

“That’s quite a shade of purple and blue you have going there. There shouldn’t be this much swelling for a simple contusion. What did she hit you with?”

“A nine iron, I think.”

“You’re not sure if you were struck by a golf club or not?”

“Yeah, I just wasn’t sure if it was an eight iron.” Gibbs let one of his rare grins slip into place. It quickly disappeared, replaced by a hiss as the cold icepack touched the inflamed skin.

“I’m going to have to x-ray this. I believe she broke the bone.”

“I’ll be fine Duck. I’ll just ice it and head home.” 

“You most certainly will not. Sit.” The aging doctor pointed at the chair. “This won’t take but a minute.” Gibbs reluctantly complied with the command. “You know I do believe I saw you once before when you were struck with a golf club. Your second wife I believe. What was it that she was irate about that time? Hmm. I seem to recall a missed appointment of some sort.”

“We were supposed to go golfing together.” Gibbs replied sheepishly. His face curled in pain as Ducky manipulated his arm to get the clearest views of the bones.

“Ahh that’s correct. And upon your return home from a case she expressed her displeasure with you.”

“That’s putting it mildly Duck.”

“A concussion and two broken ribs I believe. You certainly have a way with female golfers.”

“He sure does.” The snap hiss of the doors opening preceded DiNozzo’s voice by a split second. “Ouch boss. That looks like it hurts.” A glare was once again the only response.

Fifteen minutes of listening to Ducky and the film was finally processed. “As I feared a transverse fracture to both the radius and ulna. Luckily the fracture isn’t displaced but you’ll have to wear a splint on the arm and remember to ice and elevate it.” It only took ten more minutes for the doctor to find the necessary supplies to splint the arm and bandage it in place.

“Come on boss I’ll take you home.” Gibbs nodded too tired with the day to fight it. DiNozzo and Ducky exchanged looks over his shoulder that indicated DiNozzo would be staying the night on his mentor’s sofa and Ducky would be by tomorrow to check up on the errant Agent. Sometimes watching out for Gibbs was more job than one person could handle.


	12. My Other Left Foot - 1x12

Gibbs sipped the coffee and looked into the eyes of the redhead. He hoped Cait found something worthwhile to give them probable cause. This coffee tasted terrible.

When he deemed enough time had passed to give Cait the chance to scout the house he made one last innuendo and headed back to the living room. He found his agent sitting on the sofa looking for all the world as if she had been sitting there bored for the last ten minutes. Perfect.

Slowly Melissa closed the door behind the agents. Good thing Mama had warned her. That federal agent was cute but she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

\---------------------------

Back at the office Gibbs gave Abby the two samples from the sycamore trees. 

“Six hours,” she piped and he grimaced. The longer this took the longer it would take to find out if the sister was on the suspect list. “Oh and I found massive amounts of digitalis in the leg. It would account for the heart attack that the doctor said he died from. It’s normally subscribed for heart patients with congestive heart failure and in small doses helps those patients. But in doses this big you could kill a rhino.”

He leaned over and planted a kiss on her upturned cheek. “Thanks Abs.” He then turned and strode from her lab.

\---------------------------

Back in the office he stood at his desk. 

“What more do we know people.”

“Well the life insurance policy was taken out two months previously. Which is weird because at his previous physical the corporal was completely healthy.”

“How much?”

“Three quarters of a million Boss. I think that gives the sister Melissa some serious motive.”

Gibbs rubbed his chest thoughtfully. “Yep.”

“Gibbs are you okay?” Cait asked. “You don’t look great.” She stared at her boss who had started to sweat and continued to rub his chest with his right hand. His breaths seemed to become shallower and shallower as she watched him.

“Yeah Boss maybe you should sit down.” 

Gibbs turned a confused look at his senior field agent and then promptly collapsed into his chair.

“Oh shit! Cait call an ambulance and then Ducky.” DiNozzo didn’t spare a look to see if his teammate complied. He had eyes only on his boss who sat in his chair with his head supported in his hands.

He quickly tried to assess the situation but as soon as he rounded the corner of the desk Gibbs made a desperate grabbing motion with his left hand. DiNozzo recognized the universal sign for ‘give me a bucket because I’m about to hurl’ and quickly passed a trash can that was semi full of empty coffee cups. The can was shortly also full of regurgitated coffee. DiNozzo knelt by his side and tried to understand what was wrong. The older man’s breaths were shallow. DiNozzo searched for a pulse on the man’s neck and found it but wasn’t sure if it was normal but it seemed awfully fast.

Ducky rushed in the room at that moment. “Abigail told me of her findings with the digitalis earlier. This looks like a heart attack induced by the drug. Is the ambulance on its way?”

“Yes.” Cait said from where she was standing watching the scene play out. She wanted to help but didn’t want to crowd the doctor as he pulled a syringe out of his pocket. “I think it was the coffee.”

“Pardon?”

“I think the sister spiked Gibbs coffee while we were at her house. It’s the only thing he did that I didn’t today. She made it for him. She must have known she was a suspect somehow.”

Ducky nodded to Cait’s comment then calmly talked as he drew liquid from a small vial in his hand into the syringe. “In cases of acute digoxin toxicity it is, generally the drop in potassium and magnesium levels in the blood that cause the most issues. This is a dose of magnesium until we can get him to the hospital. Where I suspect he will have his stomach pumped.”

The medical examiner watched his friend carefully after administering the dose of magnesium. He kept a firm grip on Gibb’s right wrist as he monitored the heartbeat that thumped beneath his fingers.

He spoke in a low soothing voice to his friend. “You will be fine Jethro. We know what the issue is and I’ve administered what medicine I can until the paramedics arrive. They should be here any moment. Are you still feeling dizzy?” An affirmative grunt and clenched eyes were answer enough. “Then perhaps we shall just sit and chat until help is here.”

“Did you know that digitalis is a derivative of the foxglove plant. Or at least the chemical compounds are the same. The plant itself is poisonous in all forms but can be processed into a medicine.” 

Although he would never admit it Gibbs thought the soft voice was reassuring. If Ducky was nattering on then things couldn’t be that bad. He heard the paramedics exchange words with the ME and soon found them guiding him onto a gurney. He almost protested the device but at the same time his heart gave another painful, irregular thump and he decided it would be best if he listened to the medical professionals just this once. Gingerly climbing up onto the rolling bed he allowed himself to be strapped in. 

The last thing before they wheeled him off Ducky said was that he would see him at the hospital. Gibbs had nodded. He was willing to put his trust in his friend and believe he would be alright.


	13. One Shot One Kill - 1x13

Gibbs turned to look at Cait twirling a tiny white feather in his hand. As they made eye contact all the gears started clicking. Then Special Agent Caitlyn Todd saw Gibbs turn to stare out the window as if meeting the sniper’s gaze. A split second later his head snapped backward.

Gibbs fell to the floor landing in a heap. A fine spray of red mist settled down on his head and chest marring the pristine uniform he had so carefully donned that morning. Cait rushed over and knelt in the widening pool of blood surrounding her bosses head. 

Not daring to move him she quickly shed the khaki blouse she was wearing and balled it up. As gently as possible she placed one hand on the left side of his head and her right hand, still clutching the fabric pressed it against the wound on the side of his head oozing blood at an alarming rate. 

The voices in her ear didn’t register. Abby’s frantic shouts that they had the location of the shooter and Tony’s answering calls that he was on his way. Cait’s throat had closed up at the possibility of losing her Boss and mentor. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t get any words out of her mouth. She tried to call for help but her voice failed her so she continued to do the only thing she could, which was kneel in a pool of blood that belonged to someone she looked up to and respected in the hope that someone would come rescue them. 

It took Tony five minutes to realize something was amiss. He had taken down the shooter and expected his boss to arrive on the scene not long after. It shouldn’t have taken this long for him to get there. Hurrying the three blocks back to the recruiting station on foot Tony wasn’t sure what he would find but the shattered pane of glass that he saw from half a block away increased his pace. 

The scene that greeted him was something that wouldn’t soon be wiped from his mind. Cait was clutching a nearly soaked through piece of fabric to the side of Gibbs’ head. It was her uniform blouse if the white tee shirt she was wearing was anything to go by. She looked up and met his gaze as silent tears tracked down her face. He pressed his fingers to his ear bud so hard his fingers turned white as he franticly called to Abby and the other agents to get an ambulance ASAP.

Approaching the prone form of his boss DiNozzo carefully knelt and scanned the body looking for something, anything he could do at that moment. As if on cue Gibbs eyes started to flutter behind his eyelids in a mockery of REM sleep. Tony scooted closer until he was practically kneeling on his mentor. 

“Gibbs. Gibbs if you can hear me I need you to open your eyes for me. Gibbs you’ve been shot and I need you to open your eyes so that we know you’re okay. Come on Gibbs let’s see those gorgeous baby blues. Open up Boss.” Tony’s voice became more desperate as he continued to speak but after a minute or so of cajoling unfocused and hazy looking Gibbs eyes were pointed in the general direction of his senior field agent.

In the background the sounds of sirens could be heard. 

“That’s good Boss. You’re doing great. The ambulance will be here soon. They’re on their way. You can hear them. They’re going to take you to the hospital and get your head looked at.” A nervous laugh escaped DiNozzo’s throat. “You’re going to have your head examined finally.”

Cait, seemingly oblivious to the sounds of Tony’s ramblings choked out an almost hysterical laugh. She could feel the wetness between her fingers and knew it was the blood that had soaked completely through the shirt Gibbs had so carefully inspected that morning. She watched the rise and fall of the former Marine’s chest as he breathed slowly and evenly and longed to have a free hand to straighten the pins on his chest that had been knocked askew in his fall. 

She watched the steady rhythm of his breathing until an EMT shouldered her out of the way. Moving away from the crime scene in a haze she only vaguely noted the fact that Tony climbed in the back of the ambulance with their boss. She was still standing dazed when Abby approached her covered in black from head to toe and shielding her pale skin from the harsh light of the sun with a lacy black umbrella. Abby gracefully approached the lost looking woman clutching her arms to herself standing in the broken glass of the window outside the recruiting station.

Surprised to be enveloped in a soft hug Cait clung to the young woman. “Shh. It’s okay. I came as soon as I heard Tony over the radio. I ran out of NCIS and drove right over here. It’ll be okay. Tony is still wired he told me they’re taking him to Bethesda. It’ll be okay. He said Gibbs was talking in the back of the ambulance. Don’t worry.”

They stood like that until Cait realized she was sobbing into Abby’s shoulder and pulled back. Her mascara ran down her face leaving dark tear tracks where the salty water had picked up pigment as it fell from her eyes. Abby reached out with first one hand, then the other wiping away the marks from her friend’s face. As she glanced down at her wet palms Abby realized they were red where she had wiped away not only tears the bloody mist from Cait’s face as well. Cait must have been standing very close to their boss to be covered in the splatter pattern from the wound.

Heaving in a deep breath she released one hand from the death grip she had on the handle and wrapped that arm around her friends shoulder. Standing in the middle of the room feet softly crunching on shattered glass the two women clutched each other closely. “Let’s go make sure Gibbs is okay.”

With only a nod Cait allowed herself to be steered back to the car. Gazing out the window as they drove she caught the reflection of her tear and blood streaked face and shut her eyes against the pain of looking at herself. Gibbs had insisted on coming to protect her and she wasn’t sure she could live with the consequences of that decision. Exhausted she let sleep take her as she quietly prayed for forgiveness and the life of a man she wasn’t sure she could live without.


	14. The Good Samaritan - 1x14

Six little claws. That is what he had told his friend. The type of ammunition that had been outlawed for its brutality. A copper nose that was scored evenly so that when it impacted and began to mushroom the front of the bullet would open like a flower peeling away like six separate missiles all intent on doing as much damage as possible.

Ducky could imagine the scene as it had been retold to him. Gibbs had pulled his car up behind the green Jeep with the blinking hazard lights. They had known there was a twin. Something the suspect had said about a sister. Then drivers licenses had been pulled and the identical images displayed on the screens in the bullpen. The light bulb had gone off. That was how the alibi had been air tight. How one person could be in two places.

So Gibbs had gotten out of the car with his gun in hand. He had approached the car cautiously moving up the driver’s side while Cait had flanked the passenger side and DiNozzo had stood to the rear of the car and covered both. Gibbs had tapped the nose of the gun on the window and shone his flashlight in to get her attention. 

From Cait’s account that was when it went to hell. The flashlight had covered the suspect but had also momentarily shone through the car blinding the federal agent. Before her eyes could adjust to the bright beam Gibbs’ cry of “gun” and two shots had rung out. 

Cait yanked the passenger door open only to find the woman slumped lifeless in her seat. The side of her head contained a yawning hole where Gibbs’ bullet had torn through. DiNozzo would later recall that Gibbs hesitated a minute to shuffle forward and change the angle of his shot. Presumably it was to prevent the bullet from going through the car and hitting his agent. As it was, his bullet had traveled through the suspect’s head and shattered the rear passenger side window. A shot straight across the car would have struck the momentarily blinded Agent Todd.

The split second delay had been enough though. Unlike the woman in the car there was no exit wound.

Ducky looked down at the still form of his friend illuminated by the harsh light of the overhead lamp. His chest was open in a classic Y incision. Ducky dropped the sixth tiny metal claw in the basin to his right and shook his head trying to keep the tears at bay. Six little claws was all it had taken to topple a giant.


	15. Enigma - 1x15

Vulnerable isn’t a word often associated with NCIS field agents. Never in the three years Anthony DiNozzo had worked with him was there a time when he would have attached that label to Leroy Jethro Gibbs. It just wasn’t in the realm of comprehension that the tough-as-nails ex-Marine would have any chinks in his armor. He was the epitome of strength. Tony looked at the man he had admired for most of that three year period and couldn’t think of any other way to describe him.

Gibbs had physically drawn in curling his shoulders as if to protect himself. His eyes were at half mast as the sky blue irises followed the movement of the muttering Colonel. When Gibbs turned enough Tony could see the blood droplets freckling the left side of his bosses’ face and neck. The tiny wounds were a testament to the box Gibbs had been taking cover behind exploding into tiny splinters under the fingers of the trigger-happy FBI agents.

His voice was soft when he spoke, with little of the power it normally carried behind it. “They’re planning on trying him. The state is. Or at least they will. And he’ll be found guilty. Hell, he is guilty. He killed that FBI Agent.” 

The callous words were belied by the anguish in the older man’s voice. Gibbs had served with this man, had trusted this man. Gibbs still trusted this man. But the Colonel’s mind had broken and reality and fantasy intermingled.

Gibbs turned on heel not able to bear the scene laid out before him and strode from the room with as much confidence in his stride as he could muster. The Marine in him unwilling to allow any weakness to be shown lest others take advantage of it.

Hours later Tony descended into Gibbs sanctuary, his basement lair. When his mentor glanced up at the sound of footfalls Tony tried not to react. All of the tiny cuts had bruised leaving a veritable rainbow of color splashed across one side of the older man’s face. Even the sclera of the left eye was tinged red, the tiny blood vessels damaged during the frantic duck and cover routine. 

Taking a deep breath Tony noticed the strong scent of bourbon in the air. The movements of Gibbs hands, not slowed by Tony’s unexpected entrance, indicated that his boss had likely been in the liquor since his arrival home. Gibbs belonged to the school of drunkenness that didn’t get sloppy but rather grew even more precise as the alcohol took hold. The even cadence of the brusque strokes could outdo a metronome.

“Hi Boss.”

“Tony.”

“How’re you doing?”

“Got something to say Tony?” The sound of sanding ceased.

“Not particularly.”

“Then why did you come by?” Tony was pinned to the railing of the staircase with Gibbs’ gaze.

“No reason.” Pause. “Except I couldn’t help but notice that this case seemed to get to you.”

Another glare.

“I mean, I know he was a friend and you served with the man and that would be enough to get to any normal person but you’re Gibbs. You looked so…” Tony searched for the word, “vulnerable.” He held his breath. Most people couldn’t get away with saying such a thing to Gibbs but Tony wasn’t most people.

“I’m not Superman.” Once again the metronome of sand on wood returned. The pace was slower though, more thoughtful.

“I’m not saying you are.”

“Sounded like it.”

“I just want to know why this case? I’ve worked with you for three years now and nothing. Some cases are harder than others, some we don’t solve but this, we got this one Boss. He killed that FBI Agent, he killed the reservist. We nailed him.”

“And you’re proud of that fact?” Gibbs straightened and stared his protégé down.

“You taught me to always get the bad guy. To never back down when things get hard and to always get the truth. We did that. Why shouldn’t I be proud of that.”

“Because that man served his country with distinction. With honor. With dignity. None of those things are left to him. We didn’t get our man. We got the shell left when a good man died, was killed by a disease and what was left did horrible things.”

Tony paused not willing to say anything else.

“What happened to Colonel Ryan. That could have been anyone. The disease ate away at his mind until he was talking to someone fourteen years dead. Yes he killed, that FBI agent and yes he killed the man who smuggled money out of Iraq but in the end he thought he was doing his job. Marines, we train and train and train until we’re prepared for everything. The enemy cannot throw anything at us that we haven’t seen, that we can’t improvise around but when the enemy is inside your own head what do you do? How can you fight it?”

Comprehension dawned. Tony had been so consumed with unlocking the mystery behind the case and so grateful to have solved it that he didn’t really think about the impact it had on his boss. His boss was cut from the same cloth as Ryan. He’d even said it himself in autopsy when Ducky had been recalling the man’s reputation. ‘Driven, his life is his job.’ He had immediately equated the two men. This vulnerability it was really fear bubbling to the surface. Another emotion he wouldn’t have pegged on Gibbs, ever. This was an enemy the older man couldn’t fight one that could attack without knowing.

So he said the only thing he could think to say, “It’s okay boss, if you go off the deep end I’ll make sure you don’t hurt anyone.”

Gibbs snorted. The far off, unfocused gaze snapped back and he met Tony’s eyes and all Tony could see in the blue orbs was gratitude. He found a rough piece of sandpaper shoved in his hands. 

Hours passed as the two men stood side by side slowly smoothing the rough edges of the frame of what would eventually become a boat. Every once in a while a cloud would pass over the older man and Tony would respond with a joke or ridiculous anecdote and the cloud would pass. Ryan may not have understood what was happening to himself but Gibbs had a team and his team had his back.


	16. Bete Noir - 1x16

Gibbs threw off his sling in frustration. Shooting bullets at a picture just wasn’t doing anything to calm him down. On top of that it would probably start scaring the neighbors at some point. He stared down in anger at the sling laying limply on the ground and stalked over to the bench and picked up the fine grained sanding block.

The ache in his shoulder started as soon as he freed his arm but Gibbs ignored it. He ran his good hand over the wood searching for the places where the pads of his fingers caught on rough patches. Methodically he lifted the block and set about sanding in long smooth strokes with the direction of the grain. 

Ten, fifteen then twenty minutes passed. He ignored the ache that became a burn that turned into a fire in his shoulder. The pain was good. It meant he was alive but it also reminded him that he was too slow, that his target had escaped. He had missed a man who had the nerve to come into his domain and to hurt his people. He doused the fire with a jar of bourbon and continued to sand, ruthlessly finding and eradicating the roughness in the hull of the boat.

Who knows how much longer he was at it when footsteps creaked at the entrance to the basement. Gibbs didn’t need to look up. He recognized the even tempo of the man coming down the stairs.

“How’s Gerald?”

“He was well. I spoke with his mother and brother when they arrived at the hospital. He lost a lot of blood and will need a second surgery to repair some of the damage to the ligaments. However, the doctor was hopeful that with the surgery and some rehabilitation he would be on the mend in short order.” The soft lilt that wove its way through Ducky’s words was soothing, even if Gibbs would never admit it. He continued working the wood. 

“Come now Jethro cease that. You shouldn’t be moving your own wound so much. You’ll tear the stitches.” Gibbs stood to face Ducky and the older man drew in a breath. “It looks as if you’ve already done so. I’ll go and get my bag.”

Gibbs glanced down at his left shoulder and grunted. The hospital greens he had worn home after he’d been patched up were marred by a one inch diameter blood stain. He sighed and with effort pulled the shirt off noting that there was a smaller stain on the back of the shirt. He removed the blood soaked gauze pads and looked at the wound on the front of his shoulder. Six or seven of the stitches had torn through the skin and the gash wept droplets of blood. 

Ducky was going to raise seven hells over this. He always got upset when Gibbs didn’t follow proper wound care procedure. Sighing he scooped the discarded sling off the floor and tossed the shirt into a small pile of rags in the corner. At least it would get a second life when he started staining the boat, he’d just have to remember to cut out the patches with blood before he used it or it would ruin the color of the dye.

Ducky returned and tisked at the condition of the shoulder. Directing Gibbs to hop up on the work bench where he could be at eye-level with the injury. Without stopping to apply anesthetic the doctor began to work on the wound. Ducky’s words, however, provided a numbing blanket to wrap around the hurting agent. “I seem to remember a time once in Malaysia where a young boy, only seventeen I believe, had been injured in an attempt to protect his brother and sister from local rebel forces but alas, his siblings were killed despite his efforts. His neighbor brought him to me to be patched up and I did so. I went back the next day to the boy’s home to check on him but the dressing was covered in mud and the stitches were torn away.

“So I fixed the injury again and returned the day after that to find him in the same condition. Every day he had a reason for why the sutures were damaged and the wound once again open and dirty. He was fixing the roof he would say or helping dig a well or repairing the road.” The words were timed with the working of the needle in Gibbs’ shoulder and the agent barely felt the pain of the needle dipping into his skin or the tug of the thread as the wound was methodically pulled closed. Finished, Ducky had him hop off the bench and turn around so he could replace the exit sutures as well.

“Every day I believed him and every day I would return to find him in the same condition. The wound eventually became infected and turned septic. We might have saved his life had he not allowed himself to come to such a condition and allowed himself time to heal.” Ducky turned Gibbs around again and searched his eyes until Gibbs looked back.

“Jethro, Abigail is fine, Katelyn is fine, I am fine. Gerald will be fine. I can see this obsession infecting you. Do not allow this man to consume you. Allow yourself time to heal. You will find him but let yourself rest for now before you too become septic.” Ducky quietly handed him a clean shirt he had thoughtfully retrieved. Gibbs carefully pulled it over his head and eased the sling on but picked up the sanding block in his right hand.

“Fine. Then I will return on the morrow to fix what damage you do. We will not let you destroy yourself over this. You have done all that you can and more. Let the guilt and anger go my friend.” Ducky turned and trudged up the stairs beaten. 

Gibbs said not a word but seeing the defeated curve to his friends shoulder set the sanding block on the bench. Maybe he could give it a day or two.


	17. The Truth is Out There - 1x17

Gibbs flipped over the mattress and box springs in frustration and was sharply reminded why he had been in such a foul mood for the last month.  Only cleared for field work two days prior his left shoulder was sore and angry.

 

He powered through the investigation growing more and more frustrated that they weren’t getting any leads.  He had refused to give in to the lack of evidence.  On the drive towards base had let the frustration flare up and swung the wheel back around violently again feeling the ever-present twinge in his shoulder spike up in pain.  But they had gotten results.  They had found the evidence they needed to get the confession out of the four enlisted men. 

 

Wong was going to Leavenworth for a good long time and that brought a moment of satisfaction.  But it dissipated as soon as he got back to his desk and saw the mystery man’s face flashing across the screen.  The man with no name who had come into his home, for that was truly what NCIS was to him, and hurt his people. 

 

Gibbs grabbed the small stress ball that he had been carrying around with him.  It was supposed to help re-build the fine motor control in his left hand as well as the strength in his arm.  He was sick of the weakness.  He wanted answers and he was sick of not getting them. 

 

He stared at the monitor and watched the faces flash across the screen.  The next he knew when he glanced up the office was darkened and only Tony DiNozzo was left lit by the glow of the lamp over his desk.

 

Gibbs cleared his throat after realizing that he had been silent for some time now.  Tony’s head snapped up.  “Hey boss.  Welcome back.  You know it’s not good for your eyes to sit in the dark and stare at a monitor.”  The patented DiNozzo grin flashed across his face but Gibbs would swear that behind it he could see a hint of concern. 

 

“What’re you still doing here.”

 

“My night.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“My night to make sure you get out of here.  But you seemed kind of engrossed in what you were doing so I was just catching up on these reports.”

 

The older man thought back to Monday and Tuesday.  Sure enough Cait had been there late the first night he was back and Abby had hovered around his desk chatting until his concentration had broken and he had given up on his search for the mystery man.  Damn.  He should have noticed it sooner.

 

“Tomorrow is Ducky’s night.”

 

“Not necessary.”

 

“We’re all kind of worried about you boss.”

 

Gibbs felt his anger flare up and slammed the little globe in his hand down on the desk then hissed as the motion sent a shock up his arm to his still healing shoulder.  Still he ground out his comment.  “I do not need to be babysat.”

 

“Not babysitting boss.  Just making sure you leave the office at some point.  Maybe it’s time to call it a night?”  DiNozzo stood up and walked over to his boss’s desk.

 

Gibbs reached up with his right hand and rubbed his aching shoulder.  He wanted to stay and watch the faces go by so he could be there the moment the database found a name to go with the satisfied grin that stared back at him day in and day out.  He knew he was preoccupied with finding the man but dammit he wanted another crack at him badly. 

 

He looked up again at his agent.  DiNozzo looked tired after the case and he knew the younger man wouldn’t go home until he did.  He sighed in resignation and glanced at a clock.  It was nearly 10pm and he had to be back in less than eight hours.  The man had been patiently working at his desk for nearly five hours while he had sat and obsessed over the identity of the intruder who had waltzed in to NCIS and crushed the feeling of safety the halls held. 

 

He rubbed his shoulder again and nodded.  It could wait until tomorrow.  He stood and clicked the light off over his desk.  It left the office dark but for the glow the LED monitor gave off as it continued to sort the faces.  Still he turned and walked away in stride with his senior field agent. 


	18. UnSEALed - 1x18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit different than the others. I watched this episode and genuinely couldn’t think of a plausible way to put Gibbs in peril. So I made this a flashback.

Gibbs held up the skateboard admiringly to the boy. “In my day we used to take the wheels off of roller skates and nail them to boards. Can you believe it?”

\-----------------------------

He had only been about six or seven years old. Even at that young an age he had known, without a doubt that he was not supposed to be doing what he was doing. But the older boys in the neighborhood, the ones who were 12 or 13 and were soooooo cool were doing it. Which is why, at eight o’clock in the morning a young Leroy Jethro Gibbs had found himself sneaking into the barn behind the house where his dad kept his tools.

His mother was in the house clearing up from breakfast and doing chores around the house. Stillwater was a quiet, safe town. Her young, adventurous son was apt to go off exploring until lunch time with the other boys around the neighborhood, so it wasn’t unusual for him to disappear around this time and not turn up for a few hours. 

He had snuck his mom’s roller skates out of the closet upstairs and thrown them out the window behind the house so he wouldn’t have to carry them past her. He then bolted out of the house and ran around to pick them up before heading to the barn. He wasn’t supposed to touch the tools when his father wasn’t around he knew that but he wanted to have his own board like the cool kids.

Through trial and error he found the screwdriver that would fit in the screws in the bottom of the skates and pulled the trucks off the bottom of the shoes.

“Righty tighty, lefty loosey,” he muttered to himself. He had watched his father work on cars in the shed and been a tool runner for him. His father had been carefully showing him things about the tools and that one was easy to remember.

Tucking the shoes of the skates behind the bench he wandered over to the spare wood pile. He found a board that he thought would work. It wasn’t as wide as the other kids so his whole foot, small though it was, wouldn’t fit. He figured he could just use the middle of his feet though and that would be okay. The board was also a lot longer than the other kid’s. He was sure that wouldn’t matter either. 

He went about the process of screwing the skate trucks with the wheels into the board. It was harder than he remembered it being than when his dad had shown him earlier that summer. 

Proud as pie he had taken his board down to town near the gazebo in the middle of the town square. The square was where all the older kids hung out in the summer. They were lounging in the shade of the open sided structure when they saw him approach. “Check out the Gibbs kid,” he heard one of them say. They were laughing at him. Gibbs glared at them.

He may have been small but he had his pride. Probably too much of it if he were to listen to his mother. Determined to show the other kids that his board was just as cool, if not cooler, than theirs he began to ride it around the square.

His pride hadn’t really accounted for the fact that he’d never done this before, only watched. It also didn’t account for the fact that he was apparently not very clear on the difference between a screw and a bolt. The difference became apparent when the bolt, which did not bite into the wood and hold the way a screw would have, came loose. Between lack of experience, rolling over the bolt that had just dislodged itself and the fact that his foot slipped off of the 2x4 gravity managed to get its hold on him.

Young Leroy had fallen and cracked his head on the curb and rolled a good three feet before sliding to a halt. “Holy Shit!” One of the older boys had exclaimed. Leroy sat up and felt something warm down the right side of his face. “Tommy go get his dad.”

The lanky boy, whose name was Tommy, took off down the street towards the corner where Jackson Gibbs’ general store was. Leroy looked around dazed and glanced down at his hands where it looked like he had run a cheese grater over the fat part of his palms. He thought he should be crying but he wasn’t.

Just then his father scooped him up. “Oh Leroy boy what have you done?”

He wriggled free and went to stand up and almost fell over he was so dizzy. His father made a move to pick him up but he shook his head, which almost made him fall over again. He wouldn’t let his dad pick him up like he was a baby. Not in front of the older boys.

So his father gently took one scraped hand in his own, larger one and started to lead his son home. Leroy followed his father for a few steps then turned. “My board.” Jackson tutted but bent down to scoop up the piece of wood and bent roller skate under one arm. 

“Mary.” His father yelled when he opened the door to the house.

His mother came out of the kitchen with a confused look on her face wondering why her husband was home in the middle of the day. The confusion turned to horror when she took in the visage of her son. Pants torn through at the knees with specks of blood on the tears and his palms looked a ragged mess. What really scared her was the sheet of blood covering the right side of his face and dripping off of his chin.

“My God Jackson what did he do?”

The rest of the conversation was a blur to Leroy. As soon as his mother put her arms around him all the pride melted away and he burst into tears.

A few hours later he was cleaned up and in bed. The cut on his head had been deep but once cleaned up had stopped bleeding. His hands and knees had been slathered with what his mother called her magic salve and it was cool on his cuts. He had been ordered into bed for the rest of the day and promptly fallen asleep.

Two days later after the yelling was over and the cut in his head had started to heal his dad took him back to the barn. He thought for sure he was going to get a butt whooping but instead something amazing happened. His father had carefully pulled out a piece of lumber and shown his son how to shape it and how screws and bolts were different. 

Jackson had done all of the heavy work with the saws and cutting tools. However he showed Leroy how to smooth the wood with a piece of sandpaper and the child had gone at it with vigor and a smile. Despite his sore hands Leroy had thought the way the wood felt under his fingertips was magical.

\------

Gibbs smiled as he set the boy’s board down. The board he had made with his father had been the talk of the town that summer. All the older boys had been jealous. He ran a hand through his hair and felt the rough ridge of the scar on his scalp where it was covered by his hair and allowed himself a wry smile. 

It had definitely been worth it.


End file.
